Dean Winchester: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: In high school, Dean is failing his english class. And the only way he will pass is if he signs up for the school musical. Should be a riot of lols. Wee!chesters Sort of a sequel to "High School Never Ends" but u can read this without that one. please R
1. Overture

--To anyone who has been in theatre i hope u enjoy this. Others who haven't, i hope u like the experience! Enjoy the show boys and girls!!--

**Dean Winchester: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street**

1

**Overture**

"…What do _you _think, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean sat up, jolting awake at the sound of his name.

"Huh?" He said.

"What do you think Shakespeare meant by 'Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low,  
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb'?" Mrs. Sueltz asked, smiling smugly at him. She knew he didn't know the answer, and she was right. Dean had no freakin' clue what that meant. So, he improvised.

"Uh, Juliet thinks Romeo's dead and she needs her eyes checked?" He ventured, smirking. The classroom erupted in laughter. Some because they thought the comment to be idiotic, which was why Lucy Walker was red faced from her own laughter, and some thought it was funny.

Mrs. Sueltz on the other hand, was neither. She pursed her lips into a thin line, her eyes daggers for the Winchester boy. In the back of the classroom, Sam ducked his head.

"See me after class, Mr. Winchester." She said.

There was a chorus of "oohs" that drowned out his groan.

"Quiet!" Mrs. Sueltz barked. "Now, Miss Walker, could you continue?"

Twenty two minutes later the bell rang. Dean took his time getting his stuff together as the rest of the class filed out of the room. Sam looked back at him before Dean motioned him to go on.

"Alright, sweetheart," Dean said. "How much detention am I getting this time?"

"I'm not giving you detention, Mr. Winchester." She said without looking up from the test she was grading.

"I'm not gettin' a Saturday School am I?" He asked, almost whining. The elderly teacher smiled and looked up at him over her bifocals.

"No, you are not." She said. Dean didn't like the look she was giving him one bit.

"Then…what am I doing here?" He asked. She sighed and set down her pen.

"You are failing my class, Mr. Winchester," She said. Dean nodded. He knew this already. "You were only supposed to be in here for a semester and you've ended up in both."

"Yeah, and?"

"And if you do not pass my class, you do not graduate from this school."

"So, what do you want, Mrs. Sueltz?" He asked.

"I am not going to punish you for your comment today, nor for you falling asleep in my class. I am giving you an extra credit opportunity." Dean wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

"What?"

"You will be eligible to gain fifty points extra credit, if you meet Mr. Turk's requirements."

"The Theatre dude?" He asked. She grinned.

"Yes. You are going to help with the school play, Mr. Winchester, if you have any hope of passing this class. If you enroll in crew, I'll give you twenty five extra credit points. If you, however, somehow manage to make it into the cast itself, I will give you fifty."

Dean's jaw would have dropped if there was any saliva left in his mouth.

"The play?" He asked. She grinned again.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester, the play. Auditions are tonight. So I'd cancel any plans you may have," She sat back down, picking up her pen again. "You may go, Mr. Winchester." Dean left, dazed and dreading. He was supposed to hang out with his friends tonight. He would have to tell them he couldn't make it. And he would have to tell him why.

* * *

"You're joking, right?" Bobby, or more fondly known as Bear, Dunn asked, mouth full.

"I wish I was, dude." Dean said truthfully, pushing around the tuna surprise on his plate.

"That's freakin hilarious!" Trevor Berman, or Lipstick, cackled. He ran a comb through his perfectly placed hair, snickering.

"As funny as it is, Rifle, you should go for it," Greg, Jet, Windon said. "You wanna graduate, right?"

"Of course I do," Dean said. "But I'd rather feed all of Mrs. Sueltz cats and clean the twenty different litter boxes than do this. Have you _seen_ those theatre freaks? They're crazy!"

"Hey, they hate you too, man." Keith, Kirk to his close friends, Spangler mumbled, biting into an apple.

"What are you talking about?" Dean said. "I'm a joy to be around." The others laughed.

"They don't think so," Kirk said. "They think you're a meat-headed jerk who can't keep it in his pants."

"That's why we love him!" Bear said, clapping Dean on the back.

"What?"

"They think you all are," Kirk said pointedly. "And you guys are kinda mean to them."

"And they like you so much because..?" Lipstick ventured.

"I don't know. I'm friends with some of them. They don't bother me. Some of 'em are really cool. I bet if you guys gave 'em a chance you'd like them." Kirk said.

"Thank you, preacher, but I've been around them too. They're loud, obnoxious, horny, and smart asses." Dean retorted.

"That sounds a lot like you," Jet said. "Maybe you'll fit right in." Dean punched him in the arm.

"What you should be worried about is Lucy Walker," Bear said. "I'm like two times bigger than she is and she still scares the shit out of me."

"I hate that chick," Dean spat. "She talks to me like I'm stupid and glares at me all the time."

"Well you are stupid." Lipstick said.

"Shut up." Dean spat.

"Look, if you want to graduate I'd show up at those auditions tonight. Otherwise you have to get your diploma in summer school." Jet said. Dean sighed.

"I don't wanna," He grumbled. "But I guess I have to."

"We'll wait for you, dude," Jet said. "And good luck." Bear scoffed.

"You'll need it."

* * *

Dean pushed the Forum doors open, trying to do his best not to be noticed. He took a seat in the back, ducking his head down and burrowing into the seat.

Leslie Garret saw him come in. And when she did her jaw dropped to the floor.

"Oh my god," She said, gaining the attention of the group of people around her. "Is that the quarterback?"

"No," Colby Bennett said, shaking his head. "Maybe it's his twin brother or something."

"Who's twin?" Joey Thompson asked, hopping up and sitting on the apron of the stage.

"The quarterback's." Leslie said.

"Ooh," Joey said, grinning. "That boy's delicious already, he don't need a twin." Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Down boy," She said. "Lucy is gonna flip her lid."

"Why?" Gabby Daniels asked, coming up behind her.

"Because the quarterback's in here."

"Is he lost?"

"Who knows? But Lucy's not gonna like it."

"I wouldn't mind if he stuck around." Joey said slyly. Krista Jones nodded eagerly in agreement.

"Oh, you whore." Leslie teased. Maggie Peterson giggled.

"She's seriously gonna freak, though," Colby said. "This is her last show. And if this guy's here to make some joke out of it…I'd hate to be him when she gets a hold of him."

"When who gets a hold of who?" Lucy asked, walking up to them, taking her ponytail out. They all looked at each other, wide eyed.

"Nothing." They said. Lucy folded her arms and glared at them.

"What's going on?" She asked firmly.

Leslie sighed and inclined her head in Dean's direction. Lucy turned, an amused smile on her lips. And it quickly turned into a seething scowl when her eyes found Dean. She whipped back around, her curtain of black shiny hair flying.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here?" She hissed through her teeth. Leslie shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine." She said. Lucy shook her head smiling.

"Doesn't matter. He'll sign up for crew and never show up. His audition will be a mess and we won't have to worry about him making a mockery of this theatre." She said, folding her arms.

"Just focus on the audition, babe," Leslie said. "You gotta keep your head if you're gonna get the part you want."

Lucy nodded and walked away, taking deep breaths.

"Hey guys," Suzie Robinson said, trotting up to the group. "Who's that guy over there?" Leslie rolled her eyes.

"You and your sisters never leave this place, so you?" She asked. Suzie smiled shyly.

"That's the quarterback." Joey said, trying to hide his smile.

"Oh…" Suzie said, recognition in her eyes. "Didn't recognize him without the helmet on," The others laughed. "So, what's he doing here?"

"Auditioning, I guess." Colby said. Suzie's eyes grew.

"You're joking? A jock in the theatre department?" She asked. Leslie nodded sadly. "Oh Lucy's gonna eat him alive."

"She doesn't think he'll be around. She thinks his audition will be a disaster and he'll make crew but never show up." Gabby said. Maggie and Krista nodded.

Suzie turned.  
"Well then, I'm gonna be the nice one that tells him what's going on." She said. She walked toward him up the aisle. She sat down next to him and started to speak.

Leslie shook her head.

"She does know that these auditions are college style, right?" She asked. Joey shrugged.

"Well, I guess Mr. Winchester will figure that out soon enough. Here comes Turk."

And sure enough, Mr. James Turk came around the corner of the proscenium and clapped his hands together.

"Alright everyone, fill out these forms," He said, setting down a stack of multicolored paper on the edge of the apron. "And we'll get started in about ten minutes."

Dean stared around the large room. All these people knew each other. All these people knew what to do when you auditioned and what not to do. Dean had no idea. Hell he didn't know what the hell the play was. Until Suzie shoved sheet music in his hand.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Music." She said.

"Why do I need this?" She frowned at him.

"We're doing Sweeney Todd. Ya know, the musical?"

"Musical?" That meant singing. Shit…

Dean hated to admit it, even to himself. But he was one nervous SOB right now.

--Tell me what u think, plz! Reviews are like dean kisses to me, so give me one! ; D --


	2. Cast

2

**Cast**

Dean felt more out of place than a cross in a strip club. He and the other people auditioning were in Mr. Turk's classroom, otherwise known as the Green Room for its deep green tile and lime green walls. The others were talking normally, which meant as loud as they could without realizing it. He stood at the edge of the room, arms folded over his chest, unable to see himself fitting in amongst these people. They went about their business as usual. The ones that signed up for crew had already left, and Dean was amazed at how many of them there were, and now they were waiting to go onto the stage one by one and…sing.

Dean looked down at the sheet music he had clutched in his hands. It might as well have been written in Chinese.

"Hey there," Someone said beside him. The girl was average height, blonde hair that was pulled up in a ponytail, a sly smirk on her face. "I'm Andi Robinson."

"Suzie's sister?" He asked.

"Yeah. I couldn't help but notice that you can't read sheet music." She said.

"How'd you figure that one out?" Her grin broadened.

"You looked like you were gonna have an aneurism just lookin' at it." She giggled.

"And you know how to read it?"

"Yes, sir, I do." She said.

"You're gonna give me the wrong notes so I screw up, aren't you?" He said sharply. Her smile stayed and she shook her head.

"Nah, I'm not that mean. All the time, anyway," She winked. "I'll help you, bud."

And she sang the thing through. He refused to utter a single note but listened intently.

"'My Friends' is the main song Sweeney sings. I can't believe they handed this to _you_ but nevertheless." She said, handing the music back to him.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, slightly offended.

"Well, Sweeney Todd's the lead. And you're new here. I figured they would have given you Beadle Bamford or something." She said.

"Ouch." Dean said. She shook her head.

"I didn't mean it like that. It just goes against usual order. I mean, I figured Isaac get a Todd song, just because he's been here for forever and…well he's in choir and everything," She explained. She smiled at him and patted his chest. "But you could give us all a huge surprise." She offered, but he could tell by her tone that the odds were unbearably slim.

"Winchester," Katie Robinson, the eldest of the three Robinson sisters, said. She was a Senior, the other two were Sophomores. "You're up." Dean swallowed and walked toward the door. The entire room lapsed in silence. And Lucy walker sneered at him as he passed.

Dean prayed that he didn't make it into this show.

* * *

He walked out of the Forum doors, wanting more than anything to keep that place as far away from him as possible. They made him sing. They made him act. And they glared at him with their eyes screaming "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!". He walked into the library to collect his dorky little brother that had intended on being here after school anyway.

"C'mon, Sammy." He said, gesturing with his head for Sam to come here. Sam shut his books and notebooks and stuffed them into his backpack. Dean glanced at his watch. It was 5:00 already.

"So, how do you think you did?" Sam asked, walking along beside him as they headed out the doors.

"Aw, Kirk told you, didn't he?" Dean groaned.

"Jet, actually."

"Remind me to kill him later," He said. "The guys are hangin' at Gary's tonight, you wanna come and eat?" Sam nodded and opened the passenger door to the Impala. Dean started the ignition, sighing when he heard that familiar rumble.

"So, how'd it go?" Sam repeated. Dean sighed.

"It was a nightmare. I had no idea what the hell I was doing and all those freaks kept looking at me like I was an alien or something."

"I meant the audition." Sam said.

"I have no idea," Dean said truthfully. "They didn't react at all. They just told me thank you and that call backs will be posted tomorrow."

"Then I guess we'll find out how you did then." Sam said, smiling slightly. Dean half smiled back.

"You realize you get to make fun of me for life for this, right?" He said. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, that's why I'm being nice now."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned on the radio, Aerosmith's "Dude Looks like a Lady" blaring from the speakers as he peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Dean walked slowly to the Notice Board in front of the office, glancing at the Theatre people he saw yesterday. He recognized Tim Collins, a Freshman that never talked, staring up at him, his eyes wide.

Dean looked at the list without speaking to the people around him. His name was first. He shut his eyes, pursed his lips and backed up, heading to his first hour, English. The English class with Mrs. Sueltz and Lucy Walker. And, just as he predicted, Lucy's fiery gaze met his the second he walked in.

"You made callbacks, didn't you?" Sam asked quietly behind him, struggling with all of the books in his hands.

Dean nodded, taking the large book off of the top of Sam's stack and setting it on his desk. He walked to his own and plopped into the seat, trying not to look at Lucy. He could feel her eyes on him, burning a hole in his forehead. He didn't look up at her. He wouldn't give her that satisfaction. And, he was pretty sure that if he looked at her he would hit her, and he wasn't supposed to hit girls.

"_Hey," _He thought. _"Maybe if I can prove she's a demon I can kick her ass." _Actually, he wouldn't be surprised if Lucy Walker was the Antichrist.

He actually followed along in class today, avoiding Mrs. Suletz and Lucy's gaze. He answered Mrs. Sueltz's questions without looking up, and actually got them right for once. After he answered the third one correctly she left him alone for the rest of the hour.

The bell rang and he stood, following his brother out the door and reaching over his shoulder to grab the oversized book again.

"Thanks." Sam mumbled.

"What's up, dude?" Lipstick asked, trotting up next to them.

"Nothin'." Dean grumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. Dean remained silent and glared at him. Kirk, who had just closed his locker door, came up on the other side of Sam.

"Congrats on the callbacks, Dean." He said, taking another book from Sam's struggling arms.

"Shut up, Kirk." He spat.

"You made callbacks?!" Lipstick exclaimed. Dean grabbed the front of his shirt and brought his face close to his.

"'Stick, shut the hell up before I tear you limb from limb," He said through gritted teeth. "And you don't even know what callbacks are, do you?"

"I do too," Lipstick defended, straightening up and adjusting his clothing. Dean cocked his brow at him in skepticism. "Well, maybe not, but either way it sounds embarrassing."

"It means he has to go back to the theatre tonight and perform some more." Kirk said. Lipstick grinned.

"Yeah, like I said, embarrassing." He said.

"I'll hang in the library again." Sam said.

"I don't think it'll take as long this time," Dean said. "The list was kind of small."

"Callbacks don't mean anything good or bad," Kirk explained. "It just means that Turk and Katie want to see more of you."

"Why does Katie get a say, anyway?" Dean asked.

"She's the assistant director and the stage manager." Kirk said.

"Meaning?" Dean pressed.

"Meaning that she gets just as much say as Turk does."

"Great."

* * *

Callbacks were like auditions all over again. They made him sing and they made him act, and then they told him that the cast list would be posted tomorrow.

That was yesterday. And Dean still couldn't believe he had been up half the night nervous as hell. And for what? He had no idea.

But butterflies danced around his stomach as he approached the Notice Board. He looked for the list, knowing that he'd be listed as an understudy or on crew. Lucy pushed her way through the small crowd coming up next to him. She looked at the list, and then she looked at him, her face filled with anger and awe.

Dean looked up at the list again. His jaw dropped.

**Sweeney Todd**

**Cast List**

Beggar Woman/ Lucy: Krista Jones

Johanna: Leslie Garret

Signor Pirelli: Dylan Corbett

Beadle Bamford: Ryan Everett

Toby: Tim Collins

Anthony: Joey Thompson

Judge Turpin: Isaac King

Mrs. Lovett: Lucy Walker

Sweeney Todd: Dean Winchester

--Wo-ow : O Feedback plz!--


	3. Rehearsal One

--BTW nothing of Sondheim's masterpiece is mine! Please don't sue me!--

3

**Rehearsal One**

Dean had to go to his first rehearsal that night. Jet and Kirk had congratulated him on making it in, and the lead no less. Lipstick and Bear poked fun at him for the entire lunch shift, and would continue to do so for the rest of his life. He sighed, staring down that hallway to the Green Room. He could hear someone yelling, subconsciously he recognized as Lucy, and that made him even more apprehensive.

She was going to make his life Hell for the next three months, he could tell when she looked at him the way she did when she saw the cast list.

He swallowed hard and continued down the hallway. As he got closer he could make out what Lucy was saying. And who she was yelling at.

"Seriously? You're gonna give the school's most popular meat head the lead in the school musical?!" She bellowed. "Turk, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Calm down, calm down, you're gonna hurt yourself," Turk said calmly. "Now, Lucy, do you trust me?"

"I used to but-"

"Ah," He interrupted. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." She sighed.

"Then you have no reason to doubt that he is the best person for this part. I want you to take a breath and focus on rehearsal. We're running through the songs and scene one. You can see him in action. I think he might surprise you." Turk said thoughtfully. Dean entered the room, pretending he wasn't eavesdropping on the conversation, even though it was about him. He walked through the Green Room without looking at them, knowing that Lucy's harsh blue eyes were staring at the back of his head.

He walked past the bathrooms, past two doors that led to places unknown and through the larger doorway that led to stage right. From there you went on stage and either exited down the short flight of stairs or did what most kids did and hopped off the edge of the apron. Right now there was a large group of people standing around. Two were sitting on the apron, swinging their legs and facing the others.

Dean took the stairs, trying not to be noticed.

He slung his bag into one of the theatre's seats, away from everyone else's. This was a strange situation for him. He was used to being comfortable anywhere, whether it be the gym, the track, or the band room. But here, here there were people who had known each other for years. Here he was the outcast and they were the in crowd. He was out of place, and he knew it well.

The others pretended not to notice him out of newbie courtesy. They knew Dean needed to get the feel of things before he could even begin to socialize.

"I don't know what Turk is thinking," Skyler Asbury, costume crew, said. She was a small girl, not nearly as small as Leslie, but small. Her voice was high and squeaky; she never said a bad word about anyone and didn't have a mean bone in her body. "There is no way he's gonna be able to adjust to all this so quickly."

"We've seen bigger miracles." Dylan Corbett said pointedly.

"Be that as it may," Leslie said from her place on the edge of the apron. "I still have no idea how this is gonna work. Hell, we don't even know if he has any talent at all." Tim nodded.

"We'll find out soon enough," Said Joey, resting his head on Leslie's shoulder. "We're running the songs through today. And he sings the first one with me."

Krista let out a low whistle.

"This is gonna be one helluva rehearsal." She said.

"I honestly think it'll be hilarious," Isaac King said, smirk on his face. "He'll crash and burn in the first few seconds." Tim rolled his eyes.

"You're a cocky SOB, aren't you?" Gabby said bitterly. Isaac shrugged.

"I do what I can." Tim rolled his eyes again.

"Alright everybody," Turk said behind them. "Let's do some warm ups." Instantly the Thespian populace got onto the stage by either using the stairs or hoisting themselves onto it. Dean swallowed and stood following them.

They stood in a circle, which meant Dean had to stand by someone he didn't know.

"_God this sucks."_ He thought.

The warm ups were simple. Tongue twisters, mild stretching, and a short game. Dean got off the stage as quickly as possible, keeping his head and eyes down.

"Okay, guys," Turk said. "We're going to run through the songs and we might have time for scene one. Depends on how much time we have. First song is 'The Ballad of Sweeney Todd and…Dylan, that's you."

They all sat down and stared up at the stage. Dylan hopped on and stood center, smiling and making comments like he usually did.

"Music, Matt!" Turk called above him. Dean turned and saw a boy with shaggy red hair nod -up in the light and sound booth- and push a button.

The music started, and Dylan sang. He was cast as Signor Pirelli but he was also assigned to sing the opening and ending song because of the time he had between characters.

He did magnificently. His voice was one that made you stare in awe. And when he was finished he went right back to his usual immature and goofy demeanor. He trotted off stage and plopped down next to Andi.

"Alright, Joey and Dean, you're next."

Dean swallowed. The entire forum lapsed into silence. A scrutinizing silence. He was glad that he had learned the songs from Andi previously at call backs. Joey grinned at him and skipped up the stairs.

Dean frowned slightly at the sight, knowing that it was far too early to ask personal questions about people.

He stood next to Joey, daring for the first time to look at everyone else. Lucy was sitting front and center; her arms folded tightly, eyes as cold and hard as ever.

The music started and Dean's heart started to pound even harder. Joey started to sing.

"I Have sailed the world, beheld it's wonders. From the Dardanelles, to the mountains of Peru. But-"

Dean swallowed and cleared his throat.

"There's no-"

"_Crap, what the hell are you doing?! You are so screwed!"_

"Place like London." Dean sighed.

"No there's no place like London," His voice was quiet, too quiet. He made it louder. "You are young, life has been kind to you. You will learn."

They sang straight through it, all the way to when Sweeney was headed for Mrs. Lovett's shop. Dean got off the stage and sat back down as quickly as he could. He didn't see the other's dropped jaws. Their shocked eyes.

Lucy didn't turn to look at him. She couldn't. She merely stared, transfixed at the spot he had been standing.

His voice was deep, strong. It literally gave her goosebumps, she could see them on her arm. She heard the anger, the bitterness and the pain that the character screamed. And he had used it all so well. It almost made her angry.

"Lucy," Turk said, unfazed by Dean's singing. "You're up." She stood, keeping her eyes forward and off of the quarterback.

Once the rehearsal was over she had come to a conclusion. She _was_ angry. What was this guy playing at? He comes out of nowhere and sounds like this? No, it didn't make any sense. None. That's why she was mad. And it was why when everyone was leaving to go home she yelled:

"Hey Jockstrap!" To her surprise and pleasure, he looked up. "Come here a minute." She walked off stage left and waited. He came around the corner, looking at her uncertainly, almost fearfully. And she was happy about it. She turned to the metal table behind her and snatched one of the props. Sweeney's razor, well, one of them. And it was real. This was high school theatre after all.

"Alright, look Jockstrap," She said, brandishing at him. "I don't know what you're pulling here but you are not, I repeat, are _not_ going to make a mockery of this play. I have worked too long and too hard to let some meat head like you ruin this because you think it might be funny."

"Hey look-" He began. She stepped forward, pointing the blade in his face.

"No, you look," She said darkly. "I swear to God if you step out of line even once I will shove this somewhere that you won't like. And I don't mean up your ass." She flicked the razor closed and set it back on the table. Dean shook his head as she stalked off.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

--More soon! Feedback time!--


	4. And Scene!

4

**And…Scene!**

"She's got issues, dude." Bear said, pushing the weight above his head once more.

"Trust me," Dean said as he drove his fist into the punching bag. "I know. I didn't," Punch. "Even do anything," Punch. "To her."

"Maybe she doesn't need a reason." Jet, who was on the treadmill, suggested.

"Or maybe she's just-" Lipstick was interrupted by his own coughing fit. "A bitch."

"You know, if you'd quit smoking you wouldn't have this problem." Kirk said pointedly.

"Yeah? Well it wouldn't kill _you_ to pick up one of these weights every now and then." He retorted, still wheezing. Kirk shook his head and dived back into his book.

"I don't know how I'm gonna deal with her for the next three months." Dean said after taking a long swig from his water bottle.

"Ignore her." Jet said.

"I can't, dude, I have scenes with her, which is the weirdest thing I've ever said.

"Then, maybe she'll get nicer," Kirk said. "She's really not that bad if you get to know her."

"You are just buddy-buddy with everyone, aren't you?" 'Stick said in a mock-sweet voice.

"Lay off 'im, man," Bear warned, glowering at him darkly. He turned his attention back to Kirk. "She can be nice?"

"Yeah. She just has to respect you. But she doesn't respect you. She thinks you're a jerk." Kirk said.

"I'm not a jerk all the time," Dean defended. Sam snickered without looking up from his math homework. "Shut up, Sammy."

"You are a jerk." He said. Dean glared at him.

"Bitch."

"All you have to do is show her that you're not a complete asshole," Kirk said. "In other words, don't act like you do around us.

"Right." Dean said. Jet shut off the treadmill and stepped down, breath slightly labored. He toweled the light sheen of sweat off of his face. Lipstick was beating the crap out of the punching bag. Bear had moved to squats. Dean was lifting dumbbells. Kirk finished another chapter.

"I signed up for crew." Sam said randomly.

"You did?" Dean asked. He nodded. "Why?"

"Well, if you're gonna be there all the time I might as well be. I get bored at that motel room by myself." Dean nodded. Secretly he was thankful Sam had made that decision. He absolutely hated the idea of Sam being by himself all the time. He would never voice this aloud, because Sam was fourteen years old now, he was old enough to stay at the motel alone. But he would always be Dean's little brother. He would always want to protect him, and in order to do that he felt he had to keep him close.

"You know you're aloud to have a life, right?" He said. Sam nodded.

"If I wanna go somewhere I'll tell you." He said.

"When's your next rehearsal?" Jet asked.

"Tomorrow night. Same time, same place. And we're singing all this week." He grumbled.

"Friday too?!" 'Stick exclaimed. Dean shook his head.

"Mercifully, no. We get to have lives on Fridays. In like a month we don't get Saturdays either."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment." Bear said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Alright, I'm gonna hit the showers. Hell, maybe I'm wrong about this. Maybe it'll be fun." He didn't mean it, more sarcasm than anything, but at least it was some shred of optimism.

* * *

Dean walked through the halls of the school, bag slung over his shoulder, sauntering his way to Trig.

Joey Thompson was standing at what Dean assumed was his locker, talking to Calvin Harper. His face was spread in a dimpled grin as he fiddled with the necklace around his neck. Dean half smiled in disbelief and amusement. Joey was flirting. And, to his surprise, Calvin was too.

Joey waved at Dean when he saw him. Dean waved back.

Calvin's head spun around, his face going pale when he saw Dean. He walked away without another word to Joey, keeping his head down and mixing with the crowd. Dean walked over to Joey, who looked hurt and angry.

"Hey, dude." Dean said.

"I can't believe you're actually talking to me out of your own free will." Joey mumbled.

"As long as you don't comment on my ass outside the theatre I think you're okay." Dean joked. Joey was easy to get along with, easy to talk to, easy to be friends with. And that really surprised Dean that he was joking with him like this already.

Joey laughed, his dimples showing again.

"I can't help it…sorry." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.

"So what was that about?" He asked. Joey pursed his lips.

"Alright," He sighed. "I'm giving you this one chance and one chance only. You break my confidence on this and I will make sure your own mother won't trust you again."

"I'd change that. My mom's dead." Dean said simply.

"Oops," Joey said, smile fading. "My bad…Awkward."

"Forget it. Anyway, what was with Calvin?" Dean said. Joey pursed his lips again, brushing a piece of blonde hair out of his face.

"Cal's kind of…my boyfriend," Joey said quietly. He must have seen the shock on Dean's face. He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I said when I found out he was…Anyway, he…he just isn't ready for everyone to know yet. He doesn't want the world to know. I just…I just wish he didn't act so ashamed of me, ya know?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "He sounds like kind of a dick, to be honest." Joey nodded.

"He just needs time." He said.

"I gotta head to class, but I'll see ya at rehearsal, okay?" Dean said, walking away.

Dean shoved his way past Tommy Hartman, the second string quarterback for three years now and a real asshole. Tommy scowled at him but kept walking.

"Faggot!" Tommy barked. Dean spun around. Joey glowered at Tommy's back and walked toward his own class.

Dean ended up being late to Trig.

* * *

Dean walked into the Forum, feeling slightly more at ease since he had talked to Joey earlier that day. Sam walked behind him, looking around with great interest.

Sam dropped his backpack in the seat next to Dean's.

"Oh, hey Tim." He said. Tim smiled and nodded his hello. Dean was still amazed that this kid never talked anywhere but on stage. Dean had never heard him speak a line that wasn't written for him. Sam plopped down in the seat by his friend and took out a book, copying Tim.

"Dean!" Joey called from his usual spot on the apron. "Stop being antisocial and come here!" Dean walked hesitantly toward the group of people.

"I'm Leslie," The small girl extended her hand. "Nice to formally meet you." Dean nodded.

"Likewise." He said.

"This is Krista, Ryan, be careful he's gross," The red headed boy scowled at her. "This is Isaac, he's gross too. This is Katie, she's a beast and our stage manager slash assistant director. And, oi vay, here's Lucy."

Lucy joined the circle, smiling nicely at everyone, Dean excluded.

"So, what's up?" She asked.

"Just introducing everyone to Dean." Leslie said.

"Don't noobs annoy the shit out of you?" Lucy said, smiling. Dean flexed his jaw.

"You and I need to talk," He growled. "Now." He hopped up onto the stage and stalked of right.

"What is it, Jockstrap?" She asked, folding her arms and sounding bored.

"I'm sick of your crap and your bitchy attitude. I haven't done a damn thing to you and I am not gonna take your crap anymore. You wanna keep treating me like crap, fine. Just make sure I'm not within punching distance of you. You may be a chick but I will not hesitate to smack the shit out of you." He took a deep breath, disbelieving that he had actually told her off.

Lucy stood there, her face blank. Dean waited for the atom bomb to go off. Instead, Queen Bitch broke into a huge grin.

"Well, Jockstrap, I'm impressed. This is a definite first for me. Now, there's no way I'm gonna stop bustin' your balls. But the extent of it will definitely be turned down a notch. You've officially earned some respect from me." And she walked away chuckling.

Dean walked back into the group. Lucy was bouncing away up the aisle toward Sam and Tim.

"Wow," Leslie said, staring at him in disbelief. "You survived."

"The last guy that talked to her like that ended up dead. Like seriously dead. We think he might be buried in the walls somewhere." Isaac said. Dean shrugged.

"Maybe it's my dashing good looks." Dean suggested.

"If that was the case she wouldn't have hit me in the nuts four years ago when I met her." Isaac said. Leslie and Krista snorted. Joey shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong, Isaac, you're a cutie, but Dean is down right sexy." Joey grinned. Leslie and Krista nodded in agreement.

Dean shook his head, mildly amused, mildly uncomfortable.

"Alright," Turk called, stepping out onto the stage. "Let's get some work done."

--More soon y'all! Feedback please!--


	5. Protagonist, Antagonist

--WARNING: Offenesive language this chap--

5

**Protagonist, Antagonist**

The next few weeks went by fairly easily. Other than the fact that he had to sing four days a week, keep his grades at a C level, make sure that the spook radar was clear and make sure his little brother was okay at all times, he was great. They were supposed to be off book in a month, which was another stressor and their first work call was on Saturday. Yeah, everything was awesome.

On the lighter side, Lucy was being halfway civil to him. Every time she spoke to him or tried to get his attention she called him Jockstrap, which was slightly annoying…okay really annoying, but it beat her scowling at him day in and day out and treating him like total shit.

These people were also becoming his friends. Despite his previous assumption that they were total freaks, they were actually cooler than most of the people he knew. Despite how happy everyone seemed to be, not everything was what it was cracked up to be.

Dean was starting to notice a theme with Joey. He was always smiling, bursting with way too much energy and was one of the best friends anyone could have. But because he was gay, he got a lot of shit day in and day out. Mostly from Tommy Hartman and the rest of his goons.

And after he saw it happen right in front of him once again, he decided to do something about it.

He was on his way to the gym, which meant the fastest route was to cut through the parking lot.

That's where he saw them. Tommy and about three other guys had knocked Joey's books out of his hands. He was on the ground, trying to pick them and his papers up. The assholes were making it impossible for him to do so.

One hauled him up and shoved him into another. The other repeated this action, shoving him back and forth. If he fell they simply snatched him up again.

"What's wrong, Faggot?"

"Why can't ya stand still?"

"Get off me, Faggot!"

Anger welled in Dean's stomach, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. He dropped his bag and stalked toward them.

"Hey!" He bellowed, hands clenching into fists. They stopped. One held onto Joey, his grip tight on his arm. "Get the Hell away from him!"

Tommy stepped forward, smirk on his face. Dean glowered at him.

"You better let him go, Ferguson." He growled. The boy released Joey's arm. Joey stepped behind Dean, holding his arm and biting his lower lip.

"Don't let me see you do anything like that to him again." He threatened, looking around at them.

"Why?" Tommy asked, still smirking. "You a fag too?" Dean flexed his jaw before returning Tommy's smirk.

"No, I'm not. If I was I'd dress better," He said. He nodded at Tommy. "Kind of like that." Tommy's face turned red and he took a step forward in an attempt to rattle him.

"Are you callin' me a-" Dean stepped toward him, bringing his face inches from Tommy's.

"What if I am?" Dean said darkly. "What are you gonna do about it, Hartman?" Tommy stood there, glaring at Dean. Seconds ticked by, and, to no one's surprise, Tommy backed down first.

"Let's get out of here," He said. "We'll leave you two alone." He and the others walked in the opposite direction.

Dean turned to Joey when they were gone.

Joey smoothed his hair and righted his clothes before holding his arm again.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Joey nodded.

"Yeah, I've had worse. This is nothing," He shrugged. He sniffed and wiped his eyes. Dean handed Joey his books.

"Does stuff like that happen a lot?" He asked. Joey nodded. He swallowed hard.

"No one's ever stuck up for me like that before." He said quietly.

"Well consider that over," Dean said. "I'm not gonna stand there while jerks like that beat you up. You can't help who you are. It's not like I can help these damned good looks of mine," He teased, trying to get Joey to smile. And he did. "And you can't help who you are either. You shouldn't be punished for that," He shoved Joey's shoulder. "Now get to class." He smiled, picking his bag up off the ground and hoisting it over his shoulder. He continued toward the gym.

"Dean!" He turned. "Thank you." Joey said. Dean half shrugged.

"No problem, dude."

* * *

Dean walked into the theatre, tossing his bag into his usual seat before leaning against the stage and catching onto today's off the wall subject.

"I just think its bizarre that people like hot dogs so much," Gabby said. Leslie nodded.

"Yeah, there's like, horse and stuff in it," She shuddered.

"There's horse in Jell-O too." Dean said pointedly.

"Yeah!" Dylan exclaimed. "And you eat Jell-O all the time."

"Oh…shut up." She spat.

"Hey, Jockstrap!" Dean turned. Lucy walked up, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah." Dean said. She jogged up the stairs, ruffling Joey's hair as he passed.

"Hey Jo-Jo," She said playfully. Joey smiled and shook his head. She walked into the wing and turned to Dean.

"Look, Joey told me what you did for him today," She said. "And…I just wanted to say thank you," Dean's brows rose, stunned. "That kid means a lot to me, and I'm glad there was someone there to help him this time."

"'S no big deal," He said, shrugging. "It's not like I'm gonna let the kid get beat up just 'cause some people don't like him. Joey's a good guy; he shouldn't have to put up with that shit." Lucy smiled at him.

"You're alright, Jockstrap." She said.

"Yeah," Dean said. "So are you, apparently." She laughed.

"I get that a lot." She said.

"Maybe if you weren't so mean to everybody all the time that question wouldn't be asked as often." Dean suggested.

"Maybe," Lucy said. "But where's the fun in that?"

Though he hated to admit it, Kirk was right. Lucy was pretty cool when you got to know her better. Hell, she was even starting to grow on him. She may have been the bitchiest, scariest friend he had but she was still pretty cool.

She walked off, plopping down next to Joey and tousling his hair again. Dean headed that way, noting that Isaac was glaring at him. He shook his head and sat on the stage, reengaging himself in the conversation.

That's when the first strange occurrence happened in this theatre. The lights went down almost completely before coming back on again at a brighter intensity.

The chatter stopped and they all looked up, then at each other.

"What the hell, Matt?!" Leslie bellowed up at the light booth.

"What are you talking about?" Matt said, coming up behind them.

"Did you just dim the lights?" Krista asked. Matt's brow creased and he shook his head.

"No, why?"

"George strikes again." Dylan said.

"Who's George?" Dean asked.

"Theatre ghost," Katie explained. "Anytime something freaky like that happens we blame it on him."

"Ghost huh?" Dean said, smiling.

"What, you don't believe?" Lucy asked.

"No, I do. Just sounds a little crazy to me." He said.

"When you've been here as long as we have, nothing's too crazy." Ryan said. Tim nodded. Dean laughed right along with the rest of them. But when he looked at Sam he knew that something else might be wrong other than bad wiring.

--C, Lucy not so bad, huh? :D More soon!--


	6. Workcall

6

**Workcall**

Dean had gotten up at eight o'clock this morning, the earliest he had gotten up on a Saturday in his life. Why did workcalls have to be mandatory? And he would have overslept if Sam hadn't gotten up.

He'd worn the most faded and holeyest pair of jeans he owned and a black T-shirt worn so thin you could almost see through it.

He walked into the Green Room, looking around at the other tired faces with Sam following behind him.

An open box of doughnuts was lying on one of the tables; Sam rolled his eyes as Dean's lit up and snatched one from the box.

"Hungry, Jockstrap?" Lucy asked with a grin.

"Woke up late," Dean said, mouth half full.

"If you wouldn't have fallen back asleep again you would've been fine." Sam mumbled. Lucy and Joey laughed.

Leslie stumbled into the room, dropping her purse in a chair.

"First workcall sucks." She grumbled, grabbing a doughnut.

"Don't all of 'em suck?" Dean asked, once again with his mouth full.

"I just love how lady-like you are, Dean." Joey said, smiling wryly. Dean smirked at him and swallowed.

"Alright, everybody," Turk said. "Go to your crew heads. They have the list of what you're going to do today. I know the schedule says nine to five but if we're lucky we can get out by three."

Dean sighed and meandered his way over to Isaac, who was already holding a power drill.

Leslie came up next to him, tying her hair back in a ponytail.

"You're on set?" Dean asked, cocking his brow at her. She giggled.

"Yeah," She said. "And you get to be my bitch, along with a few other people."

"S'cuse me?" Dean said.

"Okay, Isaac is head of set. I am second head of set. Translation, I have to listen to him and the rest of you have to listen to me." She explained, grinning.

"But you're like, 5'2." Dean retorted.

"Yep. And you have to do as I say. Isn't it wonderful?" She beamed. Dean shook his head.

"No, no it is not." He said.

**Four hours later…**

Leslie stood on the apron, arms folded, smiling lightly. Lucy came up next to her, fabric in her hands from the Props closet.

"Whatcha doin', Les?" She asked. Leslie's smile widened.

"Having fun." She said, nodding in Dean's direction. He hauled the platform out of the Shop with one arm, pushing the curtain out of his way with the other. Lucy let out a low whistle, watching the muscles in his arms move and tense against the wood's weight.

"What if Turk comes up and sees you standing here?" She asked. Leslie shrugged, biting her lower lip.

"Supervising," She said, giggling. "And I'm not the only one staring." At least four other girls, and Joey, had stopped what they were doing and watched.

"Little higher, Jockstrap." Lucy called. Dean rolled his eyes and lifted the platform slightly higher so Isaac could get underneath it and bolt it to the other ones.

"Why can't workcalls always be this fun?" Joey whispered. Lucy shook her head.

"I don't know, but lunch is here." She said.

Isaac slid out from under the platforms, lifting his shirt to dry his face off.

"Aww!" Five people jeered. Joey turned his head.

"Turn off! Turn off!" He said, shaking his head. Isaac smirked.

"You like it and you know it." He said. Joey shook his head vigorously.

"There are several reasons I don't like it, pal. One, I'm not a Freshman girl that you usually prey on. Two, I'm gay not blind, and three, I know you're gross." He promptly walked out of the Forum.

"Told." Leslie said, smirking and following him out.

"You can win 'em all Hasselhoff." Dean chuckled, leaving Isaac scowling.

**Three hours later…**

Dean was very tired. More tired than he had been since he and Dad took out that Chupacabra last summer, and _that_ was tired. Six hours of lifting, drilling, running back and forth and dealing with Turk and Leslie's yelling had wiped him out quite literally.

Sam was going home with Tim to hang out overnight –_Stimulating conversation there,_ Dean had thought- and Lucy and a few others had gone to the store for costume stuff. Now they were packing up for the day, sweeping everything up and hauling all of the tools back to the closet or The Cage.

"Alright, you guys can head out," Turk said. "I, on the other hand, have to wait for costumes to get back and miss my appointment." Dean looked up from the sign out sheet he had just finished writing on.

"I can stay here, Turk. Won't be that big of a deal. I don't have anything else to do anyway." He said. Turk stared at him for a moment. Though Dean thought Turk was pretty cool, he could be such a creeper sometimes.

"Alright. Lucy has a set of keys anyway. But if she isn't back by five, just leave." He said, snatching his bag off of the table. Dean nodded.

"Don't screw this up, Dean!" Turk called back over his shoulder. Dean shook his head and walked out of the Green Room and back onto the stage. He sat down, looking around at all he and the rest of the set crew had gotten done these past few hours.

That's when he heard something moving. He stood, looking around, wishing he had brought his sawn off with him.

"Hello?" He called, feeling dumb. "Come out, come out whatever you are!" The lights dimmed and the red colored ones came up, flooding the entire Forum with eerie red light. "C'mon don't be dramatic!"

Something knocked him over, something that was gone too quickly to be human.

"That you George?" Dean grunted, pushing himself up and to his feet. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, I just wanna talk to ya!" He was knocked down again. "Okay, that was just flat out rude!"

Before he could try and get up again something hit him in the face, hard, like a boot. Dean cried out and looked around, red light swirling, trying to see what had hit him. Something hit him again in the same spot.

After the fourth time Dean saw a figure in the glow, but the lights got dimmer and dimmer as Dean's eyes shut more and more. Before long he was passed out and oblivious to what was happening.

**Almost two hours later…**

"I can't believe they left without us." Lucy said, shaking her head and setting the bags in the guys dressing room.

"The nerve of some people." Gabby said, sighing.

"Well, someone's still here, the lights are still on." Lucy said, heading toward the Forum.

The red lights were up, making her feel slightly uneasy.

"Hello?" She called, looking around for some sign of life. "Anybody here?"

It wasn't until she looked up that she saw anything.

Dean's wrists were tied to the wench pipe fourteen feet in the air, his feet dangling, head limp, eyes closed. She stifled her scream with great difficulty.

"Maybe they left, Lucy." Krista suggested, until she followed Lucy's horrified gaze.

"Lower the wench pipe now!" She bellowed. Krista ran over to the crank and started to turn it, wishing her arms would go faster.

Lucy watched, horrified as it came down lower and lower. When it was finally the height she needed she ran at it, barking at Krista to stop.

She undid the wire around his bleeding wrists, watching his unconscious face for some sign that he was okay.

"Dean," She said, tapping his cheek while simultaneously checking his pulse. "Dean, honey, wake up! C'mon, wake up!" Dean groaned, noting his arms were literally burning with pain and looked up at her.

"Did you just call me Dean?"

--more soon (no he did not lose his memory fyi) please review :D!--


	7. With Feeling

7

**With Feeling**

"Did you just call me Dean?" Dean said, groggy, absently touching his bleeding wrists.

"More to the point," Gabby said behind them. "Did she just call you 'honey'?" Lucy scowled at her mischievous grin over her shoulder. She turned her attention back to Dean.

"Are you alright?" She asked. He nodded slowly, trying to remember why there would be a dull ache in the back of his head. "How in the hell did you even get up there?!" She exclaimed. Dean shook his head.

"I honestly have no idea." He remembered the lights, the thing knocking him over and hitting him in the face (_that's _why his head hurt!), and waking up to Lucy's voice. George. The alleged theatre ghost was real, had to be. He hadn't seen anything, and if there was something it was moving too fast for him to see. Inhumanly fast.

Lucy took his arm, turning his wrist over, trying to evaluate the damage.

"'M alright." He grumbled, trying to pull away. She held fast, glaring at him.

"Come with me." She said, standing, still hanging onto his arm. He scrambled up, struggling to keep up with her quick strides.

"Hey, easy! I'm still tryin' to get the room to stop spinnin'!" He complained. She slowed, looking back at him apologetically.

"Sorry." She mumbled. She dragged him into the girl's dressing room, which was vacant, and sat him down in the closest chair. She ripped open the Stage Manager's box and dug to the bottom to retrieve the first aid kit. She went back over to him, sitting on the counter in front of him and grabbing his arm again.

"This is gonna sting." She warned, tearing open an alcohol swab.

"I've had worse than this," He shrugged. She glanced up at him before dabbing the alcohol on the open sore. He hissed, biting his lip. She looked at him expectantly. "Okay, that doesn't mean it doesn't sting." He amended. She smiled.

She took the gauze and the medical tape out of the kit and began wrapping his wrist.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean said.

"Shoot." Lucy said, her eyes never leaving her task.

"Why did you call me Dean? And honey?" He asked, unsure how she would answer. He half expected her to yell. But she shrugged.

"I was worried. I thought you were dead." She said.

"And you'd be upset if I died?" Dean asked. She nodded.

"Hell yeah, I would. Isaac's your understudy and he'd be terrible for this part. We need you alive and well for the next two months." She smirked. Dean shook his head, smiling himself. She started wrapping his other wrist.

"Were you expecting a different answer?" She inquired. He shook his head again.

"No, I guess I wasn't." They were quiet for an awkward moment.

"Alright," She said, sliding off the counter and putting the kit away. "You're all set, Jockstrap." Dean stood, head spinning and pounding when he did. He held a hand out to steady himself, eyesight normal in seconds.

"Thanks, Luce." He said, smiling lightly. She shrugged.

"Anytime. Just be careful, alright?" She said. He headed for the door. "Oh, and Jockstrap?" He turned. "Don't ever call me Luce again." He chuckled and walked out the door.

* * *

**One week later…**

Dean had told Sam about what had happened. They had checked every day for any sign of EMF and found absolutely nothing. Not even a flicker.

"Well, I know someone didn't get the drop on me." Dean had said.

"Maybe someone did," Sam suggested. Dean glared at him. "Hey, it could happen, Dean."

"Not with these people. I didn't even see what the bastard looked like. Had to be a ghost, Sammy."

"Alright, alright," Sam surrendered. "But we've checked for any sign of anything everyday this week and we've come up with nothing."

"Let's just wait," Dean said. "If it's a ghost they're bound to come up again, right?" Sam nodded.

"Then I guess we wait."

That was five days ago. Now Dean walked into rehearsal, glancing down at what looked like a destroyed Walkman in his pocket. Not even a blip. He sighed and looked up, watching the people on stage. Lucy and Joey's backs were to him. Lucy had her arm around Joey's shoulders. Joey's face was buried in Lucy's shoulder, his body shaking lightly. Dean frowned and hurried down the stairs, dropping his bag and turning to see what was going on.

Tears were slowly trekking their way down Joey's face, his eyes were red rimmed and swollen, his nose pink. Pieces of his long blonde hair hung in his face, almost as if he did it on purpose. He kept his eyes on the stage, lost in his own thoughts.

Dean gave Joey a cursory glance, making sure he wasn't hurt or had been hurt. He didn't see anything –thank god- that had physically been done.

"What's going on?" Dean whispered to Leslie, who was standing next to Lucy, eyes fiery, jaw set.

"His-"

"If you wanna talk to me just ask," Joey croaked. Dean looked up at him guiltily. "Cal broke up with me." Dean winced.

A fresh wave of sobs came over Joey, the tears moving a little faster. Lucy squeezed his arm, brushing hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear.

"It's okay, Jo-Jo." She whispered.

"Why?" Dean asked, frowning. Joey laughed ruefully, swallowing hard.

"He likes someone else." He said bitterly.

"Can ask who?" Dean said. Leslie's scowl deepened. Joey's lip trembled.

"Alexis Hamilton." He choked. Dean winced again. He looked to Lucy. And for the first time in his life, he was deathly afraid of her.

The hate in her face was so strong, the color in her cheeks fire engine red, her free hand gripping the edge of the apron so tight her knuckles were white. If anyone made her the least bit angry right now, he was sure they would die a slow and painful death.

"You're too good for him anyway." Dean said in an attempt to cheer him up. Joey gave a very forced small smile. He bowed his head, his composure starting to leave him.

"He called me…he c-called me a faggot." He buried his face in his hands, sobbing. Lucy wrapped her arms around him and rested his head on her chest.

Dean felt hot anger bubble in his stomach. Joey was his friend, and people didn't jack with his friends. Especially not closet-case assholes that play with people's emotions.

"Shh…" Lucy soothed. "It'll be okay, Jo-Jo. It'll be alright." Joey sniffed as a response.

"I don't think I meant _anything_ to him." He said bitterly.

"Then he wasn't right for you, honey," Lucy said gently. "If he can't see how special you are then you don't need him."

"What's wrong with me?" Joey whispered. Leslie stepped closer to him, putting her hand on his knee.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, do you hear me? You are the greatest guy I know. You treat everyone you see with so much kindness and love…He doesn't know what he's missing, Joey." She assured.

"You want me to kick his ass?" Dean growled, flexing his jaw. "'Cause I got friends that can rough him up like no other. And one that's gonna be a doctor so we won't kill him." Joey shook his head.

"He's just confused. Maybe he'll-"

"Don't tell me you'd actually take him back?" Dean asked, skeptical. Joey looked up at him, wincing at his tone. His face was vulnerable, his eyes wide. Dean's face and voice softened. "Joe, I know guys like this. I know what they do. They take good people like you and use them to get something out of it. Then they toss 'em over and over again because they know they'll sit there and take it. Don't be one of those people. You're better than that. And you're my friend. You don't deserve it." He said gently. Joey nodded, sniffing again.

"It still hurts." He gulped. Lucy hugged him again. Joey hugged her back burying his face in her neck and crying. Turk stepped out onto the stage. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped in seeing the situation. He looked at Lucy and Joey, at Dean and Leslie and everyone else who looked either angry or empathetic.

Lucy looked at Turk, trying to convey what was going on without actually saying it. Turk nodded and gestured off stage to where the couch was. Lucy nodded in understanding.

She gently lifted Joey's head and took his hands, standing and leading him off stage. They sat down on the couch; Lucy quickly hugged her hurting friend. Joey hugged her back, tears falling silently now, feeling betrayed, used, and ultimately unloved.

And the rest of them rehearsed. They used their anger and traded it in for passion. It was the best rehearsal Turk had seen them do.

--More soon!!--


	8. Five Six Seven Eight!

8

**Five Six Seven Eight!**

"What is that?"

"It's priest, have a little priest."

"Is it really good?"

"Sir, it's too good, at least. Then again they don't commit sins of the flesh, so it's pretty fresh."

"Awful lot of…Damn, it, LINE!" Dean bellowed. Lucy sighed, shaking her head.

"Fat!" Katie called from her seat, along with everyone else in the audience. Dean bowed his head, cursing quietly.

"I knew that," He glanced up at Lucy. "Sorry." She shook her head, brushing it off.

"From the top?" She asked. Turk nodded solemnly.

"Seems a downright shame."

"Shame?"

"Seems an awful waste. Such a nice plump frame, what's his name had, has, had, no it can't be traced…"

"You're flat, Lucy!" The choir director, Mr. Stuck, called. Lucy growled and continued.

Lines were fine, choreography was great, and so was singing. But not at the same time. They were still having some trouble with that. Talking and walking took at least three years in grade school to learn, and they had to do all of this in three months. Well, they only had one left.

Right now Dean was trying his hardest to sing, not drop the plastic meat cleaver he was supposed to be holding, and waltz at the same time. He was failing miserably.

"Alright, Jockstrap, do you want me to lead?" Lucy snapped.

"Shut up, I'm working on it."

"Alright," Turk said. "Lucy, Dean, go practice! Isaac, Ryan, get up here and run through your scenes."

Lucy stalked off stage right, pressing her fingers to her temples.

"Hey, I'm sorry I suck. It's not like I do this all the time, you know." Dean said. She shook her head.

"It's not you, Jockstrap. I've been having a hellish week and this is just icing on the shitty life cake." She said, walking into the Green Room and put the CD in the radio.

"Sorry." Dean mumbled. She shook her head and grabbed his hand, putting her other hand on his shoulder.

"Just shut up and sing. And dance. And hold this thing at the same time." Dean sighed and started singing.

"Have charity toward the world my pet."

"Yes, yes I know my love."

"We'll take the customers that we can- Son of a bitch!" The cleaver clattered to the ground. Lucy bent down the same time he did, their hands clasping over the handle at the same time. They looked up at each other, hands still touching. A lapse of silence passed between them, and it was nothing but the song still playing on the radio and them.

"Ah-hem." They both straightened up, Dean holding the cleaver.

"Turk wants you guys back on stage." Isaac said, looking dour. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, uh, we'll be there in a second." He said. Isaac walked away grumpily. Dean turned back to Lucy.

"You, uh, gonna get the CD?" He asked. She nodded.

"Yeah…yeah."

He walked out of the Green Room blushing for reasons he didn't fully understand.

* * *

"…Look at you! Look at you! Pale and ivory skin. Oh look at you looking so sad and queer. Promise not to retreat to the darkness, back of your window, not 'til you down here! Look at me! Look at me!"

"Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird. Teach me how to sing! If I cannot fly…"

"Look at me!"

"Let me sing!"

"Excellent," Turk said from his place at the edge of the stage. "Excellent work. Keep it up, guys." Leslie smiled and trotted off the stage. Joey gave a small bow, beaming, and bounced off the stage.

"Lucy, Dean, you think you can do 'A Little Priest?'" Turk asked. Dean glanced at her; she gave him an encouraging nod.

"We'll give it a shot, Turk." Dean said, standing and sighing. He got up on the stage and sat in the chair he was told to sit in at the start of the song.

"Seems a downright shame." Lucy sang.

"Shame?"

"Seems an awful waste. Such a nice plump frame, what's his name has. Had, has, no it can't be traced. Business needs a lift. Debts to be erased…" Minutes passed, blocking memorized. But now came the dancing, singing and not dropping the meat cleaver at the same time thing. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cleaver in hand, the other holding her hand. And they started to spin.

"Have charity towards the world, my pet." He sang, keeping character as much as he could.

"Yes, yes I know, my love."

"We'll take the customers that we can get."

"High born and low, my love."

"We'll not discriminate great from small…" They broke apart on the apron, looking out the "window"- a.k.a. stare at the audience and act like they're the ones you're talking to- that Turk had told them to.

And they both sang, "No, we'll serve anyone, meaning anyone, and to anyone, at all!"

The song ended. Before Turk could say a word, every sound effect set up in the Light Booth went off, full blast.

"What the hell?!" Dean bellowed, covering his ears.

"WHERE'S MATT?!" Turk yelled.

"I'M OVER HERE!" Matt shouted. The lights started going bezerk, flashing on and off, different colors, or all one color. Everyone looked around blindly, trying to make sense of it all. Lucy leaned closer and closer to Dean, thoroughly freaked out.

Dean looked at his brother, who had the same expression he did. And he knew they were thinking the same thing. Ghosts.

The saws in the shop started running on their own, blades screaming.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Dylan tried to yell over the noise, but was only heard by Gabby, who was standing next to him.

"TURK WHAT SHOULD WE DO?" Katie screamed. For once, Turk seemed at a loss for words.

Dean was sure his ear drums were going to burst, he was going to go blind, and his ears were already bleeding.

Lucy had darted over to the box off stage that held different switches for the lights. She pressed every one, but nothing made a difference.

Two bulbs burst in the lights above Dean's head. The volume increased on the sound effects, the saws moved faster, the lights flashed brighter.

And as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The lights turned off completely, The saws turned off, the sound effects faded to nothing.

Matt jogged over to the light box and turned the house lights back on.

"Is everyone alright?" Turk asked. Dean felt pressure on his arm. He looked down to see Lucy clutching him tight in her hands.

"You okay?" He asked. She nodded, letting him go like he had burned her.

"Yeah, I'm alright. You alright?" He nodded. He slipped off the stage and trotted over to Sam.

"You okay, Sammy?" He asked. Sam nodded, looking around.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinking?" He said. Dean nodded. "Can you take me to the Library when we leave? I'll see if I can find out anything about what's going on." Dean nodded.

"Yeah. I'll call the guys and see if they can help." He said.

"Okay…" Turk said. They could see him trying to work out what had just happened, trying to find a logical explanation. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." The cast members and some crew members nodded and grabbed their things in silence, all of them either in shock or completely at a loss as to what just happened.

"What just happened?" Isaac asked, coming in one of the exit doors.

"Are you telling me you missed all of that?!" Krista asked, incredulous.

"I had to run out to my car for something. You guys looked freaked, what happened?" Krista rolled her eyes and shoved past him.

"Just be glad you weren't here, dude." Dean said. Isaac glared at him and walked out into the theatre to talk to Turk.

"Man, I didn't even do anything and he's a dick."

"Maybe it's the mustache," Sam suggested. "That usually makes people assholes, right?" Dean laughed and clapped Sam on the back.

"That it does, Sammy."

--More soon! Feedback now!--


	9. Your Motivation

9

**Your Motivation**

"Man…" Lipstick whined. "I _hate_ reading!"

"Shh!" Kirk snapped. "We're all surprised you can read in the first place." 'Stick scowled at him.

"You keep readin' and you're gonna turn into a book." He retorted.

"Hey," Dean said. "Can we focus?" Lipstick sighed and looked back at the large volume in front of him.

Jet rubbed his eyes, tired from hours of looking at old newspapers.

"How far back do we have to go again?" He asked.

"School was built about thirty years ago, so…" Dean said. Jet sighed and let his head fall on the table. Bear chuckled, face hidden behind a yellowing paper.

Dean sighed and yanked it out of his hands.

"Snoopy and Woodstock aren't gonna help us figure this out, Bear." He said. Bear smiled sheepishly.

Sam came back from the aisles, a huge load of newspapers in his hand.

"There has got to be an easier way to do this." He grunted, dropping them in front of Jet, who groaned.

"The computers are backed up again," Dean said. "Some sort of virus or something. And they're slower than we are most of the time. It's not like you can find out every thing you want in a millisecond."

Lipstick snorted.

"The day mankind can do that is the day I eat my own shoe." He said.

"This blows!" Jet said. "I mean, really, do we have to look through _every_ obits page for every single month in every single year?"

"Think how hard this is with two people." Sam said.

"Good point." Jet resigned.

"Hey guys," Bear said. "I think I got one."

They jumped up, crowding around Bear's paper. He pointed a meaty finger at a picture of a middle aged man with a crooked grin.

"'George Harrison, 38, died March 8th, 1964 when building the town's high school. While building the roof over what is to be the theatre, Harrison fell to his death. Services are Friday and Saturday at United Methodist Church on Pine Street.'" Kirk read.

"That's him," Dean said. "It has to be."

"So, what do we do now?" Jet asked.

"Dig ole Gerogie boy up and salt and burn him." Dean said with a grin, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door.

"Why can't he get a job in fast food like a normal kid?" Kirk asked, sighing. Bear grinned.

"'Cause killing ghosts is ten times cooler."

* * *

"Great, just freakin' great!" Dean bellowed. "Gravestone but no body?! What the hell?!"

"Shh!" Sam urged. "Dean, it's alright."

"It is NOT alright, Sammy!" He said, holding up the jar he had found filled with ashes. "Who the hell buries a jar of ashes? I mean what the hell?!"

"His wife probably wanted to be buried with him." Kirk said pointedly.

"Shut up, Kirk." Dean growled.

"Relax, man," Lipstick said. "What's the big deal if he's cremated?"

"It means we have to figure out what he's attached to. There has to be something tying him to this place, or Earth for that matter. We can look around the school and see if we can find something." Dean said, calming slowly.

"We'll keep our eyes out for something." Jet said.

"Wait a second, what the hell are we lookin' for?" Bear asked.

"Anything," Sam said. "It could be a hat, or maybe a shoe, or a wallet, anything."

"So," Kirk said, brow creased. "We're looking for a needle in a stack of needles?"

"Pretty much, dude," Dean said, hauling himself out of the grave after setting the ashes down. "Just another thing for me to have to worry about. Not only do I have this show and what _I_ need to do, but I've also got to make sure no one dies in the process. Fun." He smirked ruefully.

"At least you only have a month to go." Jet said brightly.

Dean shook his head.

"That means we only have three weeks 'til Hell Week." He growled.

"What's Hell Week?"

"Just what it says: Hell."

* * *

Hell week started out alright. With absolutely no leads on George and Opening Night looming in the distance he was nearly forgotten by the two hunters.

Dean's costume was finally finished, after an embarrassing twenty minutes of Krista measuring him for pants and making comments whenever she pleased.

He'd rolled his eyes, laughed a few times, and asked frequently if she was done yet.

The set was finished. The chair where everyone died was set up, and it worked. The people would slide off of the chair into a chute that was padded at the bottom. It went to the basement on the other side of the stage where it was sometimes set up and Mrs. Lovett would drag them away toward the stove, which was nothing but a dim light that was covered and uncovered when the door opened and closed off stage right.

Now they were doing dress rehearsals. It was Tuesday, the second day of their Hell. While they were dressed in their costumes hair and makeup weren't required today.

And now was the best part of the entire, endless nights. Dinner.

Dean dove into the lunch meat sandwiches that had been provided by a few of the parents, past starving.

"I'll be back in about ten minutes!" Joey called over his shoulder, walking out of the Green Room, car keys in hand.

"Bring me some fries, Jo-Jo!" Lucy yelled. He gave a thumbs up without turning around.

"I can't believe I missed that cue," Leslie said, agitated with herself. "I mean, seriously, it's not like I have a lot of lines in this thing!"

"And yet she's the basis of this whole play." Tim said. The room froze, all eyes on Tim, mouths agape.

"Tim!" Lucy exclaimed. "You can talk!" He blushed and delved back into his book.

"Holy shit," Dean said. "It's a freaking miracle. Someone go see if there's pigs flying outside!" He said. Everyone laughed.

"Why don't you talk, Tim?" Dylan asked. "Are you too good to speak to the rest of the human race?" He grinned wryly. Tim shook his head.

"He just doesn't like dealing with morons like you on a daily basis," Gabby said. Tim smiled and nodded. Dylan huffed and walked away. "See, Tim, we got this!" She grinned. He nodded, chuckling.

"Alright, guys we're gonna start up again soon, okay?" He said, throwing his trash away, obviously unfazed by what had just happened and walking out of the room.

"Wait a second," Lucy said, brow creasing as she stared at the clock. "Joey's not back yet." There was a murmur of worry that Dean didn't understand.

"So he's a few minutes late, what's the big deal?" He asked. Lucy spun around to face him, fear in her eyes.

"Joey is _never_ late. Ever. If he is then…"

"Then something happened to him." Leslie finished in a whisper.

Turk stepped back in and looked around. After glancing at the clock he looked at the rest of them.

"Where's Joey?"

--Oh crap...Feedback please!--


	10. Joey's Lament

--**WARNING!!!: This chapter contains VERY offensive language. Read at your own will, ok? Rated M for violence and language. No flames 'cause I warned ya. It's bad folks. Real bad. But don't hate me, ok?**--

10

**Joey's Lament **

Dean's first assumption was Joey had been taken by George. If only Fate had been so merciful.

Joey walked out of the Forum and into the parking lot, heading to the back where his car was. He was reaching in his pocket for the keys when something unbearably hard struck his face. He fell hard, vision blurred, mouth filled with blood. He looked around, white lights dancing in front of his eyes.

"You're gonna get it now, Faggot." Icy fear jolted through him, clogging his throat. He saw the others crowding around him, and he knew what was coming before it did. He braced himself. A barrage of boots struck his body, the baseball bat that had originally hit him joining in the mix. He cried out, shrinking into himself and away from them. He grunted and coughed, yelping in pain and trying to plead to stop. Tommy grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his face up.

"You ready to die, Cocksucker?" He hissed, breath hot on Joey's face. He whimpered. He heard the ripping of tape and seconds later his arms were yanked behind his back and bound together. Another piece was slapped over his mouth.

"Get 'im the truck." He was hauled up and tossed mercilessly into the bed of one of their trucks.

His breath came rapidly, heart pounding, fearful tears in his eyes. The truck started and pulled away from the high school. His hopes of being found faded as the parking lot lights got dimmer and dimmer and winked out one by one. A tear slipped down his cheek. He was going to die tonight.

* * *

They drove him out in the middle of nowhere, gravel road crunching under the tires and throwing up rocks. He was heaved out and dropped, landing hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He coughed, sending dust flying into his face. He was yanked up viciously, a fist holding his hair, jutting his face forward. Tommy ripped the duck tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

"I wanna hear him scream." He said, grinning.

"Please," He breathed. "Please, don't do this."

"Shut up, Faggot." His fist came down hard across his face. He grunted, his head thrown sideways. Tommy stepped back, looked around at his comrades, and nodded.

They were on him instantly. They weren't hitting him, they were ripping his clothes off of him.

"No! No, no, no, please! Please…please don't!" He was writhing and squirming in his captor's grips, holding back tears.

When they stepped back he was naked and trying desperately not to cry. Somehow they managed to get him tied to a wooden post on the side of the road. He looked around at them, feeling humiliated and trembling.

That's when it started to rain. Thick, heavy drops falling fast and soaking him in seconds. The faces before him turned blurry and hooded.

"Please, please, I haven't done anything to you, please." He whimpered, huddling himself together.

"You bein' alive is enough."

They took turns beating him. Throwing punches, spitting on him, and the constant slurs. Their hateful words and laughter filled his ears. He felt bruises form on his face, cuts from their rings. Water ran in his eyes and down his body, running over wounds.

He cried, cried hard. He begged, desperately. He screamed, he tried everything. Nothing would stay their hands, nothing would silence them. He'd be happier if they would just leave him here.

His split lip dripped blood down his chin, even more blood trickling past his lips. The bruises were dark and deep. He trembled in the cold night air, turning his face up to the rain.

"God, please help me!"

One of the dozen boys grabbed his face and forced him to look at him.

"God hates fags like you. You're gettin' what you deserve, you little cocksucker."

Another boy stepped forward with something in his hand. A soft click told Joey what it was. He saw the light from their headlights glinting off the blade that was coming closer and closer to him. But that wasn't what scared him the most. What scared him was the person holding it.

"C-Cal?" He choked. Calvin glowered at him, pressing the blade against his cheek. Joey swallowed a sob. "Cal, please, help me."

"Why the hell would I help you?" He whispered, his mouth next to his ear. "You think you meant something to me? You think I actually cared about you? No, no you were just something for me to play with until I got bored."

Joey felt his heart twist, adding to the agony his body was enduring. He shut his eyes, unable to tell the difference between raindrops and tears.

"Please, Cal. Please help. Please, don't do this to me, please." He begged. The knife bit into the skin on his chest. He screamed, looking at Calvin with pleading eyes.

"Why the hell would I help you? I'm gonna cut you up. You disgusting queer." The blade sliced across his body with no mercy, tearing his skin. He screamed and cried so hard his ribs hurt terribly. When Calvin backed away all he could do was shake and whimper. Tommy walked toward him and he shrunk away, turning his face from the boy.

"What is it you want, Faggot?" He asked, grinning coldly. "Huh? What do you want?" Joey gasped and sobbed hard when Tommy's hand grabbed something too personal.

"No! No, please, let me go please, god please, let me go." He gulped, body tense. Tommy's grin broadened. This wasn't about sex; this was about power, control, and humiliation. And God was it working.

"Is this what you want? You want boys to play with you?" He asked maliciously. Joey shook his head violently. Tommy hit his jaw with unbearable force. "Don't lie to me, Cocksucker. Do you want boys to play with you?"

"Yes." Joey winced, what was left of his pride and dignity shattering. Tommy laughed.

"You want _me_ to play with you?" He asked. Joey shook his head.

"N-no. No, I don't want it. Please, let me go," He sobbed. Tommy squeezed. Joey screamed. "AHHHH! PLEASE! Please, let go, please, for God's sake let me go!" It was a good two minutes of him screaming and begging and crying before Tommy obliged.

He took shuddering breaths, keeping his eyes closed and trying not to listen to the laughing crowd and their jeers.

"You're nothing but a filthy, disgusting, cock sucking faggot. Even God hates you. And you're gonna die here. Fucking Faggot!" Tommy spat in his face. Joey whimpered and bit his lip. The others took their last shots, each spitting in his face or touching his groin, in some cases both.

Each of them sent slanders his way.

"Fag!"

"Queer!"

"Cocksucker!"

"Like it up the ass, don't ya?"

The tape on his bloodied wrists was undone and he fell; first to his knees, then flat on his face. He tried to push himself up, fingers digging into the sopping soil underneath him. A knee in the middle of his back shoved him back down. His arms were wrenched behind his back and bound again, tighter than before. He sobbed without shame, turning his face toward his shoulder, away from the lights, away from them.

Tommy knelt down next to him and once again grabbed him by the hair. Fabric was shoved into his mouth and more duck tape covered it to silence him.

"We're gonna leave you here to die, Faggot. If the rain don't kill you by morning then a truck that can't see you will. The second you see headlights you best believe your dead."

Tommy slammed his face into the mud and rock and walked away.

"Have fun in Hell, Cocksucker!"

The engines started. The lights faded to complete darkness. When the last sound of their trucks died away Joey wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened. His cries were muffled by the gag. He recognized what they had shoved in his mouth, now. A piece of his boxers.

He curled into a ball, sobbing as the freezing rain pounded against him.

He didn't know how much time passed. Just that it was long, very long. He saw headlights on the hill, coming straight for him. He shut his eyes and he knew. He knew that within seconds he would be dead.

--Told ya so. Poor thing :( That's the reality of it though, huh? Plz review if u dont hate me :)--


	11. Blackout

11

**Blackout**

They'd been looking for hours. Some of them went into town. Some went out by his parent's house. Some stayed at the theatre in case he came back. Turk had called the police, but they couldn't do anything until he had been missing for twenty-four hours.

Lucy and Dean had taken his car and were driving up and down back roads. His car was still in the parking lot when they had checked, his car keys lying a few yards away beside a puddle of blood.

Lucy had nearly lost it then and there. It was the most unstable he had seen her. She'd almost fainted when she saw the blood and proceeded to yell and shout, asking what could have happened to him. Dean finally had to take her by the shoulders and almost shake her.

"Lucy!" He yelled. "We're gonna find him, okay? We'll take my car, alright? He's gonna be just fine."

He told Sam to stay at the theatre with Turk, Gabby and a few others. Sam didn't object.

Now they were driving. The rain wasn't helping him see the road, and it was hard enough to drive on gravel.

"Shit!" Dean slammed on the brakes inches in front of a mass in the road. He and Lucy sat frozen for a moment, getting over the scare.

Dean's eyes grew as he recognized what the figure was.

"Lucy, get the blanket out from under the back seat and lay it back there, okay?" He shoved the door open, moving to get out. Lucy still hadn't moved. "Lucy!" She jumped.

"Alright, alright, okay." She said, hands shaking.

Dean ran around to the front of the car and knelt down to the shaking body.

"Joey," He said, taking out his pocketknife to cut the bloody duck tape off of his wrists. Joey whimpered and tried to wriggle away. "Hey, hey, hey, easy, buddy, it's me. It's me." He turned the younger boy's face up, carefully prying the duck tape from his lips. He got the tape off and pulled the gag out of his mouth, his stomach flipping over when he did.

Joey gasped when he saw him, tears falling freely. Dean smiled softly, nodding.

"It's okay, buddy. You're gonna be alright, okay?" Dean put his hand under Joey's back and lifted him up, taking off his jacket and laying it on his shoulders. Joey collapsed against him, crying in relief.

"Shh…" Dean soothed. "It's okay, it's okay. You're safe now," Joey buried his face in Dean's shirt, trying to get away from the rain just a little. "Joe, who did this to you?"

Joey shook his head violently.

"Sh, shh, shhh, okay, okay, you don't have to tell me alright?" He assured. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Can you walk?" The younger boy shook his head.

Dean nodded and picked him up as carefully as he could. Joey grimaced and yelped in pain. Dean apologized and headed toward the back seat of his car. "Okay, I'm gonna set you back there with Lucy, okay?"

Joey whimpered, lips trembling, eyes begging him not to let him go.

"Okay, I won't, I won't. It's alright, Joe. Shh…" He opened the door and cautiously slipped himself and Joey inside, draping the blanket over him. Lucy slid over to the driver's seat, looking at them in the rearview mirror.

"You alright, Jo-Jo?" She whispered. He shut his eyes and nodded. Lying.

Lucy continued driving down the road.

"We need to take him to the hospital." Dean said.

Once again Joey shook his head hard.

"Joey you could be really hurt," Dean defended. He shook his head again, sobbing softly. "Then maybe we can take you home-"

"No." Lucy answered. Joey turned his face into Dean's shoulder, still crying. Dean looked at Lucy in the mirror.

"He came out to them last year. His father can't stand the sight of him. His mom cries all the time and screams at him that he's a sinner. His dad's beat him with a Bible before." She said quietly. Dean absently hugged Joey a little tighter.

"Then what should we do?" He asked.

"Take him to his real home."

* * *

Lucy went ahead of them into the theatre, quickly explaining to everyone what had happened. Someone dragged out the bed they were using for the show onto the stage. Everyone who had a car ran out and grabbed the emergency blankets they had in their trunks.

Dean got Joey –who was still wrapped in the blanket and Dean's jacket- inside and onto the bed. He was shivering still, almost violently.

"Okay, Joey, I'm gonna call a friend of mine and he's gonna look you over, okay? You know Kir, Keith Spangler, right?" He asked. Joey nodded weakly. "He's the closest thing I know to a doctor. He'll help you, alright?"

Lucy came up behind them, wringing her hands and still looking petrified.

"Turk said he cooperate with what Joey wants to do. He knows there's nothing anyone will do. Hospital will make him file a police report and the people that did this are probably related to the police or their parents are buddy-buddy with them. No, it'll result in community service, even if Joey wanted to tell who did it." She said quietly. Dean nodded.

"Stay with him, I'm gonna make a phone call. I've gotta friend that can look him over." He said. Lucy tensed, face turning defensive.

"Who? Can you seriously trust him? What if-"

"Lucy," Dean said, understanding her concern. "It's Keith Spangler. He won't hurt him." Lucy relaxed.

"Oh, okay," She said. "He's in my Lit class. Smart guy, always has a medical book with him." She was assuring herself. Dean stood.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He said. She nodded and took his place on the bed. She gently rubbed Joey's forehead, brushing pieces of his blonde hair out of his face.

"It's gonna be alright, Jo-Jo. You're gonna be just fine, okay?" He didn't answer. He shut his eyes and turned his face away from her. "Hey," She touched his cheek, turning him back to face her. "Talk to me, honey. Say something." He swallowed hard.

"'M cold," He said shakily. "I'm real cold." Lucy winced, blinking away tears and trying to smile. She pulled the blankets they had laid over him up, tucking them closer around him.

"You'll get warm, sweetie."

"I d-don't want to be n-naked. I want cl-clothes." The tears were getting harder and harder to push away.

"We'll get you clothes, Jo-Jo. What else?" She said, holding his hand.

"'M hungry." He gulped. She nodded.

"I know, I know. We'll get you something to eat, alright?" Her vision was blurring, the salty water stinging her eyes.

"Lucy?" He said softly. She looked down at him, trying to smile. "I don't want to be gay anymore." He sobbed. Lucy hugged him close, letting her own tears come.

"Shh…It's okay, it's alright. Shhh…"

She was going to get whoever did this. She was going to make sure they wished they'd _never_ been born or thought of.

Right now, though, she couldn't be angry. Right now she had to make sure that Joey knew she was there for him and that she cared about him.

"You're gonna be okay, Jo-Jo, I promise. I'm here. I'm here. Shh…"

He held onto her tight, crying hard, unable to get their faces out of his mind.

* * *

Dean held the phone to his ear, praying that Kirk would still be up.

"Hello?"

"Kirk! Thank god. It's Dean, I need your help, man."

"Alright, slow down, what's wrong?"

Dean told Kirk what had happened as quickly as he could.

"You're the closest thing I know to a doctor, dude. And I know it's late but-"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," He said. "How bad is he hurt?"

"I'm not really sure. He'll need stitches, I know that much." Dean said grimly. Kirk sighed.

"I'll be right there. Keep him comfortable and calm, okay?" He said.

"Yeah. Thanks, dude."

"Don't thank me unless I help him." Kirk said, the line going dead seconds later. Dean put the phone back in its cradle and ran his hand over his face.

"Guess it is Hell Week."

--Please review--


	12. Is There a Doctor in the House?

--I AM SOOO SORRY THAT I HAVENT BEEN REPLYING TO UR GUYS'S REVIEWS I HAD A VIRUS THAT WOULDNT LET ME, PLEASE FORGIVE ME!--

12

**Is There a Doctor in the House?**

Kirk ran down the hall that led to the theatre, bag in hand. His mind was racing, half unable to believe that someone could hurt such a nice guy like Joey. The other half was remembering everything he could about first aid. Or anything serious he might have to do. He'd been studying for years, he knew what to do. But panic made you question yourself.

He ran through the theatre doors and down the main aisle to the stage. He saw Lucy sitting on a bed they were most likely using for the production, holding Joey's hand and stroking his hair.

He walked up the stairs and immediately over to the bed. Lucy looked up at him.

"Thank you." She whispered. He nodded.

"I, um, need some warm water. And I need to look at him, uh, alone. For privacy reasons." He stammered. Lucy nodded and stood, hesitant.

"I swear on my mother's life, to God and all things holy I will not hurt him." Kirk said firmly. She sighed, slightly relieved, gave Joey's hand one last squeeze and walked off stage, shooing those standing in the wings.

Joey looked up at Kirk, tearful eyes swollen, body withdrawn away from him.

Kirk smiled gently, touching Joey's arm.

"It's okay, Joey," Kirk said. "I won't hurt you, alright? I promise."

Joey shivered and nodded. Gabby came up behind Kirk with a Styrofoam bowl from dinner filled with warm water and set it on the edge of the bed. Kirk nodded his thanks and she scurried off.

"Alright, Joey," Kirk said softly. "I'm going to look you over and get you cleaned up, okay? It's not going to be too comfortable, but it won't take long, alright? I promise." He pulled down the blankets, revealing Joey's battered and lacerated torso. Kirk winced. Joey shuddered and drew himself in closer, whimpering.

"It's alright, Joey," Kirk assured. "I know it's cold but I have to make sure you aren't that hurt, okay? It'll be over soon." He nodded slowly.

Kirk washed the blood off of the younger boy, being as careful as he could. He stitched up his deeper cuts and wrapped his injured ribs.

"Almost done," Kirk said, trying to calm Joey's soft crying. "I'm almost done, okay? I swear, it's almost over." Joey nodded.

"Thank you," He gulped. "Thank you."

* * *

Lucy walked into the empty dressing room, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, taking a shaky breath.

"You okay?" Dean asked, coming in behind her. She bowed her head, taking a moment to compose herself. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," She answered immediately. "No, don't go," She paused. "I'm not okay, Dean. I've been looking after that kid since he was two. We've been best friends for as long as I can remember. I was the first person he came out to. I was the person he came to if he was in trouble, or scared, or sad. I'm supposed to protect him! And now…Now someone's hurt him and there's nothing I can do about it. I swore a long time ago I would always be there to protect him and I can't even do that right now," She looked at him through the mirror. "Do you know what it's like to watch out for someone like that?" Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I do." He said. She turned around to face him.

"I feel like it's my fault." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes. Dean hugged her, not really knowing any other way to comfort her.

"It's not, Lucy. I know how you feel, trust me. I know it sucks when something like this happens but you can't always blame yourself. It's _nobody's_ fault." He assured. She looked up at him, and he stared right back. Their eyes locked and both of them knew what was going to happen before it did. They leaned toward one another, closing their eyes slowly as the inevitable came closer and closer. Their lips brushed and it was Lucy that tugged them both together with a passion Dean had no idea she possessed. Her arms entwined themselves around his neck. Dean held her close, fingers braiding in her long, dark hair. When they broke apart they stayed close, their faces next to each other.

"I've been dreaming about that for three years." Lucy whispered, barely daring to let the words past her lips. Dean was taken aback.

"Really?" He said, equally as quiet.

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see you. That's why I'm such a bitch to you, Dean. I…I think I love you. Or whatever it is we can have at 18. I've had a crush on you since the moment I saw you. And as time went on I realized that a guy like you would never be with a freak like me. And it made me mad. Especially when I had a class with you or something. I felt like I saw you, but you didn't even know I existed. So yeah, I was a bitch to you. I didn't know what else to do. And then you show up here and you actually stick around; became my friend. I learned who you are, who you really are. I like you a lot, Dean. I know you don't feel the same way, but I do." She said, feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders when she did.

"Hey," Dean interjected, lifting her face. "I _do_ like you, Lucy. I haven't liked you for as long as you've liked me, but I do like you. A lot." To prove his point he kissed her again, longer and gentler than the first time. They broke apart abruptly when Kirk opened the door.

"Is he okay?" Lucy asked, sounding panicky. Kirk nodded at the floor, avoiding her eyes.

"He'll be alright. His injuries aren't too serious. His ribs will take the longest to heal. I'll have to take his stitches out in a few days," He looked up at them, apprehension and worry in his face. "I have to tell you guys something you won't like. You'll hate it, in fact, but I have to tell you. And you can't get pissed off. You have to keep a cool head for his sake, alright?"

"What? What's wrong?!" Lucy asked, desperate, wringing her hands. Kirk swallowed before he spoke.

"He…He was…He was molested." Kirk said, the words coming out like it hurt to say them.

They were totally silent. Lucy's knees gave up on her after a moment. She stumbled back into Dean's arms, hand clasped over her mouth, tears spilling down her face without her complete knowledge.

"Kirk, how do you know?" Dean asked, throat constricted. Kirk chewed his lip.

"Bruises, mainly. And…he told me." He said quietly.

"Please, tell me you're lying." Lucy begged.

"I wish I was, Lucy." Kirk said truthfully.

"What can we do for him?" Dean asked, his voice still not working properly.

"I gave him some Advil for the pain. Other than that the best you can do is be there for him. Keep him comfortable and get him something to eat. I'm gonna stay here tonight in case something happens." Dean nodded, still holding Lucy upright. Kirk left the room looking grim and tired.

Dean turned Lucy around to face him.

"Are you okay?"

"I need to see him," She whispered. "I have to see him." He nodded.

"I'll see if I can find him some food," Dean said. He kissed her forehead to reassure her, not really thinking about the gesture. She attempted to a small smile and bolted out of the room and onto the stage.

She sat down next to Joey, who jumped at her sudden presence.

His pain was starting to dull thanks to the medicine Keith had given him. Keith had been very careful with him, making sure not to hurt him too badly. And, since he and Keith were about the same size, he'd also brought him clothes. He'd thanked Keith more times than he could count and it still didn't feel like enough. He wasn't sure why he'd told him what they'd done to him. Maybe it was because he was trustworthy. Maybe it was because he had to tell someone.

He could tell by the way she was looking at him that Lucy knew. His eyes watered at the memory. He could still feel their hands on him, tearing his clothes, beating him, touching him. He swallowed hard.

"Hey, Jo-Jo," Lucy said, smiling painfully. She stroked his hair, staring at his bruises but not meaning to. "You okay?" She asked. He swallowed and shook his head. Tears slid down his face easily, helplessly. He turned his head away, ashamed. "Hey," Lucy touched his cheek. "It's alright, Joey. It's alright." She hugged him close. He sobbed hard against her, tightly holding his legs together.

"Did I do something wrong?" He whimpered.

"No, Joey, no. You didn't do anything. They're the ones that did something wrong. _They're_ the ones that hurt _you_. It's not you fault, okay? You did _nothing_ wrong. Shh…"

"Then why did they hurt me? Why did they do that?" He cried softly. "I didn't do anything to them. I didn't…"

"Shh, it's alright, Jo-Jo. They're just scared. They don't understand you. _That's_ why they hurt you. Those sons of bitches did this to you because of their own fears and insecurities. It's not you fault." She said bitterly.

"It won't go away," He sobbed. "It won't go away."

"It will," She promised. "It will, Joey. You just need some time." He nodded and nuzzled his face deeper into her shirt. Time didn't matter right now. This happened less than three hours ago. The memories were still fresh in his mind, the pain still in his body. Right now he just needed someone to be there. Someone that didn't call him Faggot, or Cocksucker or Queer. Someone that didn't hit him, cut him, spit on him or molest him. Someone who would hug him and not laugh when he cried. Someone who loved him. His best friend.

* * *

Chloe Johnson was on costume crew. She was a die hard vegetarian and Democrat. She was the nicest girl you would ever meet and probably the quietest. Because everyone ate fast food or something that wasn't good for you she brought her own very healthy dinner she made on her own. And, by some miraculous coincidence, her pecan salad, apple, graham crackers and mineral water filled her up and she didn't touch her tomato soup, which sat neatly in her canvas and environmentally safe-made bag.

So when Dean came into the Green Room and asked the grim cast and crew if anyone had anything for Joey to eat she stood immediately, holding her thermos up. Dean took it from her, thanking her.

"Thank you, Chloe. Thank you so much. Thank you." He ran into the hall, through the right wing and onto the stage. He handed the thermos to Lucy and looked at Joey. His tear-swollen red eyes looked at the thermos longingly. He chewed his lip, waiting for the soup to come his way. No sooner did the cup touch his lips he began drinking rapidly. Lucy pulled back gently, looking at him steadily.

"Slow down, Joey," She said softly. "No one's gonna take it from you, alright? Slow down."

Joey obliged, painstakingly but he did. Dean stayed off to the side, unsure of what else to do.

Once the soup was gone Lucy said, "You need to sleep," She coaxed him down from his sitting position. "I'll be right here if you need me." He grabbed her hand, desperation in his eyes. Lucy pushed his hair out of his face, smiling a fake smile.

"Here." She lied down on top of the covers next to him, hugging him close to her, his head resting against her chest.

"Go to sleep, Jo-Jo." She whispered. He nodded and shut his eyes.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sam asked quietly, coming up behind Dean.

He looked down at his little brother, who's wide eyes were on Joey, looking scared. Dean squeezed his shoulder as reassurance.

"I think so," Dean said. "You want me to take you home?" Sam shook his head.

"Joey's my friend. I'm staying too."

* * *

Chairs and recliners were pulled from the props closet. Couches were taken from the pit and dragged to the wings, some even laid in the audience chairs. Either way, no one went home that night. Phone calls were made to parents saying that they were staying at someone else's house that was at the theatre as well. The perfect plan.

Turk stayed at his desk, reclined back in his chair, glasses askew.

Sam was curled next to Suzie, who had taken a sisterly liking to him.

Matt had dimmed the lights to a muted glow and now snored softly in a recliner with his girlfriend and head of sound crew Kat Thompson under the light box.

Dean occupied a couch, alone, trying to sleep and not being that successful. When he finally did fall asleep he was awoken a few hours later by frantic whimpers and a low, soothing voice.

"Shh…It's okay, Jo-Jo. Sh, you're okay, you're okay. They can't get you, shh…" Lucy whispered. Joey calmed, his features smoothing, cries dying.

"Go get some rest," Leslie said, coming up beside her. "I'll stay with him," Lucy hesitated, looking down at Joey's still face. "He'll be okay." Leslie assured. Lucy stood wearily and stumbled toward Dean, who sat up.

"Oh," She said, stopping short. "Sorry, I'll go-" He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. She lied down with him, her face in his shirt, a few tears leaking onto it.

"He'll be alright." Dean assured. She nodded.

"I know. I just don't know when he will be."

--Ahh! Dean/Lucy and Joey!Angst. Rollercoaster chap, huh?--


	13. Theatre Superstitions

13

**Theatre Superstitions**

Some of the seniors used their work release time to stay with Joey the next day. Others, like Dean, called the school and said they were sick. Sam was included in this. He had gotten about two hours of sleep last night and there was no way Dean was making him go to school.

So as of right now, Sam was asleep on the couch he had been on last night. Lucy was getting breakfast to get her mind off of things. Turk was telling his acting class that there was an elementary school using the theatre for one of their assemblies. Kirk was leaning against the doors to the Forum, dozing from his busy night, making sure no one came in. And Dean was sitting next to Joey, making sure that any nightmare he had was short lived.

Joey stirred, his eyes slowly opening. He blinked a few times and looked at Dean, eyes bloodshot.

"Hey, kid," Dean said softly. "How ya feelin'?"

"Hurts," He croaked. "Everything hurts." Dean nodded.

"Alright, hang on just a sec." He bent down and grabbed the cup of water and dose of Tylenol Kirk had placed there hours before.

Joey took the medicine and drank the water eagerly.

"Thank you," Joey whispered. "For everything. You saved my life, Dean." Dean shook his head.

"You would have done the same for me, Joey. Don't mention it," He assured. "Can I ask you something you probably won't answer?"

"You want to know who did it," Joey said quietly. Dean waited. "You know who they are. B-but…" He looked up at Dean, tears in his eyes. "I can't tell you, Dean, I can't. I'm too scared. I, I know it's weak and I'm a coward b-but-"

"Hey, hey, Joey, easy," He said, cutting him off. "You're not a coward. You're not weak, either. If this happened to me I wouldn't want to say who did it either. It's alright, okay?" He said gently. Joey shut his eyes, tears slipping out of his closed lids. Dean winced. "C'mere, buddy, come here." He hugged the younger boy, letting him cry. Joey had spilled too many tears in such a short amount of time.

"It was Hartman, wasn't it?" He whispered. "Hartman and his goons?" Joey sobbed harder, giving Dean his answer. "It's okay, Joey, it's alright. They aren't gonna hurt you again. Shh…It's okay, it's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"Don't hurt them, Dean," Joey gulped. "Don't hurt them for what they did." Dean blanched, incredulous.

"Why?"

"I don't want an-anyone to hurt like this. I don't want some-someone to feel this way too. Even if th-they did do th-this." He choked. Dean shut his eyes and hugged Joey tighter.

"You're a lot better person than I am, Joey. I'd want the bastards dead." He whispered harshly. Joey shook his head.

"They d-don't know any b-better. Th-they're just scared."

"Alright, Alright, Joe. I won't hurt 'em."

Joey relaxed, and he cried. He cried for a very long time.

* * *

Kirk was sitting with Joey now. Dean had taken his spot at the Forum doors, his head resting against the doors. Today had been hell. Last night had been hell. None of them had any idea what was going to happen as far as the play went. But that was the last thing on Dean's mind.

"Are you okay?" He sat up, looking in the direction of the voice. Lucy came and sat down next to him.

"Yeah," His voice was coarse from lack of use. "Yeah, I'm alright."

She looked at him, turning his face toward hers.

And, not for the first time in his life, Dean acted on impulse. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, kissing her deeply.

Her hands cupped his face, no sound around them but their breathing. Dean's hands were wrapped around her back, holding her close.

That was when the lights started flashing angrily, the saws screamed, the sound effects blared and the audience seats folded and unfolded, making a sound like horrendous thunder.

Lucy fell out of Dean's lap, startled. She looked around the corner, covering her ears and looking out at the empty audience.

But Joey was her real worry. He had started awake, blind-sighted by the sudden noise. He'd covered his face and drawn himself inward, scared and bewildered. She bolted down the aisle and leapt up onto the stage. Kirk looked just as confused as Joey did, but not nearly as frightened. He jumped off the bed as Lucy hopped onto it, wrapping her arms around Joey, covering his ears.

"DEAN! CHECK THE SHOP! UNPLUG THE SAWS!" She bellowed. Dean darted toward the shop. The saw's high pitched squeals hurt his ears, and when he yanked the plugs out of the walls, nothing happened. They continued to shriek and spark. The lights blinked on and off at an alarming rate, almost like a strobe light.

"GEORGE!" Dean yelled. "HEY LOOK, PAL, I KNOW YOU'RE MAD FOR SOME REASON BUT PLEASE, JOEY'S HURT, DUDE, HE DOESN'T NEED THIS! STOP IT!" The lights stopped flashing.

"_I'm sorry…Can't…stop…Sorry…Joey…" _The voice was strangled, like he had to force himself to say it.

Dean looked around, slightly in awe. George had just talked.

"C'MON GEORGE, AT LEAST TURN THE SOUND EFFECTS OFF!" Dean bellowed.

"_Not…not my f-fault…so sorry…"_

"PLEASE!"

And it stopped. All of it. Dean sighed, his ears ringing.

"Thanks." He whispered.

He walked out onto the stage, glancing at Joey and Lucy.

Lucy was talking to him in gentle tones while he looked at her sleepily. She eased him back down and stroked his forehead, encouraging him to sleep.

Kirk jogged toward him, pale and worried.

"What the hell was that?" He whispered harshly.

"The theatre ghost." Dean said. Kirk snorted.

"Great. Good to know the myths are true.

"George is…well I _thought_ he was pissed off. But he just said he was sorry for doin' that. Like he's not the one hurting people."

"So what does that mean?" Kirk asked.

"It means that someone's making George do this. 'Cause I really don't think he wants to."

"But who'd do stuff like that?" Kirk asked. Dean shrugged.

"I don't know," He looked over at Joey and Lucy again. "But whoever it was is a real asshole."

--Sorry it's so short. Reviews r welcome!--


	14. The Show Must Go On

--**WARNING: Strong Language Ahead!--**

14

**The Show Must Go On**

The incident with George was driven out of Dean's mind by that night. Now he had something else to worry about, Joey wanting to keep going with the show.

"Damn it, Joey, lie down." Lucy snapped. Joey shook his head.

"I've been sleeping all day. We need to rehearse." He retorted standing gingerly. Everyone glanced at each other.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Turk said.

"Aw, c'mon Turk. There is no _way_ Jonny can learn all of my lines in three days. He won't my choreography or anything by then. I'm doing this show, fractured ribs or not." He said defiantly.

"You're seriously injured, Joey. How are you going to be able to do all of this when you're hurt?" Leslie asked. Joey smiled.

"It's called acting for a reason, Les. I'll be alright. And this'll make when Ryan beats me up a lot more realistic." He joked. No one laughed.

"I still don't like it." Krista said. Dylan shook his head.

"I don't either." He said. Joey frowned.

"Hey, I thought you guys were in theatre!" He exclaimed. "What happened to the show must go on, huh?"

"In all fairness, this is my first show." Dean said.

"I'm not sitting this out!" Joey said firmly. "They can beat me up all they want but I WILL NOT let them win!" His face was red, angry tears in his eyes.

"Alright, Joey," Lucy said gently. "If you can do this, you go for it." Tim nodded in his ever silent agreement.

"I don't like it, but okay." Leslie grumped. The rest of them agreed. Then all eyes were on Turk. He looked at them, his face unreadable. It was a long time before he said anything.

"Well, what are you standing here for?" He asked. "Hair, makeup, costumes, now! We start in an hour."

Joey beamed. The rest of them took off, heading for the dressing rooms. Running crew took the bed off stage and started setting up for the first seen. Matt, Cat, and the assistant head of lights, Jamie, ran to the booth.

Turk sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his temples.

"I should have been a lawyer like my mother wanted," He mumbled. "These kids are going to kill me."

* * *

Dean told everyone what had happened the next day. And, like him, they weren't too enthused.

"You're kidding right?" Bear asked, enraged. "Just because he's-"

"Yeah," Dean said, flexing his jaw.

"That's bullshit!" Jet exclaimed. "He's such a nice kid!" Dean nodded.

"I know, dude. And the funny thing is-"

"Hey," Lipstick said, jogging up to them, breath wheezing. He bent over, hands resting on his knees to catch his breath. He held up a finger as a gesture for them to hang on. Kirk rolled his eyes.

"I told you to quit." He said sternly. Lipstick flipped him off.

"Just hear Hartman talkin' in the hallway," He gasped. "Did he really beat up Joey Thompson? You know, that gay kid?" Dean clenched his fists.

"You mean that son of a bitch is _braggin'_ about it?" He said through gritted teeth. Lipstick nodded.

Bear, Jet, Kirk and Sam looked at Dean. His lip curled in hate, fists clenching in anger.

"Dean, dude," Jet said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

"I think we should kick their ass!" Bear snarled. Lipstick nodded.

"I'm not saying we shouldn't, okay?" Jet said, looking at the rest of them. "But I don't want Dean to do something stupid. Let them start it, okay? If we start it we go to jail. And 'Stick's record's big enough." Lipstick nodded, lighting a cigarette. Kirk frowned at him.

"I'm quittin', I'm quittin'. This is the only one I've had all day, sheesh. What are you, my mom?"

"That's not funny." Kirk said. Lipstick's mother was dead.

"Alright, stop acting like my girlfriend, then. Is that better?" He snapped. Kirk rolled his eyes.

"Guys," Bear said, nodding down the hill. Tommy and every lackey he had, including Calvin, were coming toward them. Dean flexed his jaw again.

Tommy stopped in front of him, smirking and holding up his hand so the others would stop as well.

"What's a matter, Winchester?" He asked, mocking him. "Did I hurt your boyfriend?"

"Kirk, get Sam outta here." Dean barked. Kirk obliged and Sam went hesitantly.

"You're one sick and sorry son of a bitch, you know that?" Lipstick said.

"Why, because I taught that disgusting faggot a lesson?" Tommy said.

"You left him there to die!" Bear snarled. Tommy shrugged.

"Yeah, and?"

Dean took a step forward. "You better take that back asshole!"

"Or what?" Tommy scoffed. "There's twelve of us and four of you. You don't have a chance in hell."

"You better back off now, Hartman, or you'll regret it." Jet threatened.

"Ooh, I'm shaking. You really think you're that intimidating, Windom? You're a bigger puss than Spangler."

"Shut your fuckin' mouth!" Lipstick barked.

"And you. You're probably the biggest loser out of all of 'em. Acting like your hot shit when there isn't a girl in this school that'd touch you. I mean how could they? You bathe in fuckin cologne and your hair's so greasy it could run my car for three months."

"That's funny," Lipstick smirked. "That's not what your girlfriend said Friday night." Tommy scowled, eyes flaring. He turned his attention back to Dean, who was still fuming.

"So, you're pissed that I smacked your little cocksucker around." He stated. Dean glowered at him, eyes smoldering.

"You should know better than to screw with my friends, Hartman."

"I should kick your ass for being friends with that faggot." Tommy spat. The edges of Dean's vision were red.

"The only faggot I see here is you," He growled. "I think you're the one that's gay, huh? Is that what it is? You're just too scared to admit what you really are. So what do you do? You take it out on a kid that you _know_ wouldn't fight you. That's weak, even for you. Cocksucker."

He had remembered what Jet had told him. Let him throw the first punch. He didn't really care for the words he had used. But it would get Tommy riled up to the point to where he would-

WHACK!

hit him.

Dean's face flew sideways. Distantly, he heard Bear's knuckles crack. Dean turned back around to see a red faced Tommy, looking murderous.

"My turn." He threw his fist forward.

Nearly all of Tommy's "friends" had taken off. Now there were five of them, Tommy included. Lipstick was circling with Calvin, throwing jabs when he could. Bear had two of them, one hanging on his neck, the other in front of him. And Jet had Tommy's right hand man, Jared Wilkins, rolling on the ground, fists flying.

It didn't take long for them to get the upper hand. Lipstick had Calvin on the ground in minutes, breathing hard, face bloodied.

Jet was gasping in the grass next to a disoriented Jared, eye blackened and lip split. He threw one last punch and Jared's head fell, eyes shut.

Bear had the two kids in headlocks, his own face bruised.

Tommy was on his knees in front of Dean, who had a handful of his shirt, fist raised.

Tommy winced. Dean stopped.

"_Don't hurt them, Dean. Don't hurt them for what they did."_

"You know what," Dean said, his face close to Tommy's. "I'm not gonna do this. Believe me, I want to beat you to death for what you did. But guess what? Joey doesn't want me to. He doesn't want me to lay a single hand on you assholes for what you did to him. How does that make you feel, huh?" Tommy looked away, his eyes confused. "So I suggest you get the hell out of here. And if I ever see you near him, or hear you say a single bad word to him, I'll kill you," He said dangerously. "And if you think I'm kiddin', try me." He shoved Tommy away from him. He got up, scrambling away. Bear let the kids he had go and Calvin sprinted in the opposite direction after he stirred Jared awake.

"Did Joey seriously not want you to hurt them?" Jet asked, wiping the blood out from under his nose.

"No, he didn't."

"Damn," Bear said, shaking his head. "He's nicer than me." Dean nodded, looking down at his bruised knuckles.

"I have to get to rehearsal. We open tomorrow."

"I'm so going." Jet said, smiling. Lipstick and Bear nodded.

"I might fall asleep, but I'll be there." Lipstick said. Dean half smiled and walked away.

"Hey!" He called over his shoulder. "Sam, get your ass over here!" Sam trotted out from behind the Impala and to his brother's side.

"I still can't believe you let those guys live." He said stiffly.

"Joey told me not to. So I didn't. Simple as that," He said. "Now c'mon. Four more days and this is all over. Then I am going nowhere _near_ this place for as long as I live."

--more soon!! :D --


	15. Opening Night

15

**Opening Night**

Dean walked into the men's dressing room, dodging some of the girls rushing through on makeup crew. He walked down to his claimed corner at the end of the long counter, setting his bag down and shrugging his jacket off.

"So when does House open?" He asked, heading to the closet with his costume in it.

"Uh," Isaac said, checking his watch. "In about two hours."

The nerves in Dean's stomach fluttered a little bit. He started to undress, dreading when he had to put on, dare he say it, stage makeup.

He was standing in his boxers getting ready to pull black slacks on when he heard a whistle behind him.

"Very nice, Jockstrap." Lucy said, smirking appreciatively. Leslie giggled. Dean glanced over his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

"I still think it's messed up that girls can come in here but we can't go into the Girl's Dressing Room." He said, pulling his slacks on.

"We have to be able to come in here," Lucy said. "Guys suck at putting makeup on."

"Ahem." Joey said, looking at them expectantly, hand on his hip.

"You don't count, sweetheart." Lucy said. He smiled and turned back around, pulling on the slightly tattered jacket they had pulled for his costume.

Dean was about to pull on the white button up shirt when Lucy snapped,

"Do you _want_ makeup on that?" She asked.

"Well, no." He said, frowning.

"Then leave that off until somebody can do your makeup. Les and I have to go get corseted." She said grimly. Leslie grunted, grimacing.

"Which is so much fun if you want breast cancer," She said. She shook her head and sighed. "The things we do for this place."

She and Lucy turned and headed out of the dressing room.

Less than half an hour later Dean was sitting in a chair in front of Krista, who was on the counter slightly above him.

"Do I seriously need that much base?" He complained.

"Shut up and stop whining or you can try and do this yourself," She said firmly. "If I don't put this on you no one'll be able to tell what you're saying or your facial expression so shut up." Dean frowned, surrendering.

"Stop pouting so I can put on your eyeliner."

"Eye what?!"

"Shut up." Dean had to open his eyes very wide and look up for Krista to layer it on.

"This is embarrassing."

"No, it'd be embarrassing if it looked bad. At least I know what I'm doing." She spat.

"Now, for the love of God, hold still."

* * *

Dean looked at himself in the mirror, unable to recognize himself. His face was white, almost stark white. The insane amount of eyeliner around his eyes made him look either very tired, or, well like he'd been in prison for fifteen years.

"Wow," Lucy said, coming up behind him in her tattered 1800s dress that she wore for the first few scenes. "You definitely look creepy." He smiled at her.

"Good. At least it'll be realistic." Her hair was piled on top of her head in a mess of curls, face as pale as his, eyeliner only slightly less pronounced.

"That looks uncomfortable," Dean commented. She nodded vigorously.

"I'm a size four in jeans. I'm a zero in this thing." Dean winced.

"Ow." He said. She nodded.

"You're really nervous, huh?" She said. He nodded.

"Yeah. I _know_ I'm gonna screw up. I've never done this before, and I'm not real used to saying that." He mumbled. Lucy smiled at him.

"Stage Virgins, they're so cute," He laughed half-heartedly. Lucy cupped his cheek in her hand. "You'll be great, Dean. They'll love you. You can sing, you can act, even if you don't like that you can." She kissed him gently.

"And if you royally screw up, the rest of us will save your ass. We know how to cover lines for newbies." She grinned. He laughed.

"Guys," Skyler said, not noticing when they immediately put some distance between them. "Places. We start in five."

"Thanks, I'll be right there," Dean said, feeling his stomach flutter. He looked back at Lucy. "I think I'm gonna puke." She smiled knowingly at him.

"Trust me, after that first scene the nerves go away. You'll do great. Now get out there," She smirked at him and donned the British accent she was using for the show. "Mister T." He rolled his eyes and walked out of the dressing room, into the small hall, into the Right Wing and onto the stage. Joey looked at him from his own place and gave him a thumbs up.

Dean swallowed, staring at the closed curtain. He watched the House Lights go down and heard Cat give her usual speech. No flash photography, pagers turned off, etc. He heard the crowd get quiet and get settled. The music started and Dylan started singing on the other side of the curtain.

Dean's heart was pounding somewhere in his throat. His mind spun, going over the lyrics of the songs, his lines, everything all at once. Dylan's song ended.

His heart sped even more as the curtain started to open. He shifted his sweaty palms, swallowed hard and was in character when the lights came up.

Joey started to sing, flawlessly, as usual, even though it was hard to breathe with cracked ribs.

"…But there's no place like London."

_Here goes nothin'._

"No there's no place like London."

"Mr. Todd?" Joey said.

"You are young, life has been kind to you. You will learn." He took a few steps forward, scowling at the audience.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit and it goes by the name of London…" He got through that song. He got through singing about his wife and how he was imprisoned. And now, it was on to Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with _shit_ and the vermin of the world inhabit it…"

The lights went out, the audience clapped.

Running crew darted out onto the stage pulling things off and pushing things on, turning walls around and making an entirely new scene.

"I told you!" Lucy whispered as she darted to her spot behind the counter covered in flour and dough.

Dean sighed, his nerves calmed. The lights came back up and he walked inside.

"Wait, where's your rush? Where's your hurry? You gave me such a fright, thought you was a ghost, half a minute. Can't you sit, sit you down, sit!" He sat. "All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come in for a pie, sir? Do forgive me if me head's a little vague…"

Dean watched Lucy flutter around the kitchen singing, following his blocking. She set down a pie that looked disgusting to the audience, but it was just food coloring…He hoped.

"…If you doubt it take a bite." She dared. He did, pretending to be disgusted. "Is that just disgusting, you have to concede it…"

She got through "Worst Pies in London" with ease. He didn't have to talk again until she was singing "Poor Thing".

And then came the part where Dean was _really_ nervous about. "My Friends". He and Lucy sand completely different parts that didn't coincide with one another at all. So he was on his own.

_Please, God, don't let me screw this up!_

"Those angels is silver ain't they?" She asked curiously. Dean looked at the razor in his hand, fascinated. Well, Sweeney was fascinated anyway.

"These are my friends. See how they glisten. See this one shine. How he smiles, in the light. My friend, my faithful friend," He walked toward the edge of the stage, turning the razor in the light, smiling lightly at it, malice in his eyes. "Speak to me, friend. Whisper. I'll listen. I know, I know, you've been locked out of sight all these years, like me my friend. Well I've come home, to find you waiting. Home," He brought the razor closer to his face. "And we're together, and we'll do wonders, won't we?"

And he and Lucy began singing simultaneously.

"You there my friend…" Him.

"I'm your friend too, Mr. Todd…" Lucy.

"Come let me hold you…" Him.

"If you only knew Mr. Todd. Ooh, Mr. Todd, you're…" Lucy.

"Now, with a sigh, you grow…" Him.

"Warm in my hand." Both of them.

That song went, and the scene ended with him slicing the air in front of him on the apron and holding up the razor.

"At last! My arm is complete again!"

Blackout. Running Crew padding quietly and he ran off into the wings grinning.

"You did it!" Lucy whispered, hugging him. "What did I tell you, Jockstrap? Easy as pie, huh?" Dean started laughing. "What?"

"You said pie." He said. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Yes, ha ha, pun on the show. You're hilarious." She said.

"I thought it was funny."

The lights came back up on Johanna's room, which was where the barber shop had been moments before, with Leslie sitting in front of a window that was very large and had no panes so the audience could see her. Joey came in down left, holding a map. Extras walked down the street, and Krista stumbled her way through, head bent, begging for money.

Dean sighed, leaning against the wall beside Cat. Maybe this wouldn't be that much of a train wreck after all.

--Whoo! The Musical has started! Feedback please!--


	16. Act I

--Sorry it's been so long! Ok, dont sue me Sondheim, but the dialogue and songs in this are from the actual Broadway production. So no copyright infringement intended, i swear! Enjoy!! :D --

16

**Act I **

Joey tried very hard to keep his breath from hitching when he sang and talked. His ribs screamed at him not only every time he moved, but every time he spoke as well.

"I feel you, Johanna, I feel you. I was half convinced I'd waken, satisfied enough to dream you, happily I was mistaken, Johanna," He wandered around the high rise platform, looking at Leslie, who had been painted like a porcelain doll and was looking at him with a small, sweet smile. "I'll steal you, Johanna, I'll steal you…"

And now it was into Judge Turpin's house he went.

The conversation between him and Isaac was simple. He asked for directions to Hyde Park, told him he was a sailor, got asked if he wanted to look at ancient porn, and was accused of gandering at Johanna.

"You gandered at my ward, Johanna," Isaac said, stepping toward him menacingly. He moved to speak, but Turpin cut him off. "You gandered at her," Once again trying to talk. "_Yes_, sir, you gandered."

"I meant no harm-"

"Your meaning is immaterial," He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. Joey kept his expression shocked, ignoring the horrible pain his body had just received. "Mark me, if I ever see your face on this street again, you'll rue the day your bitch of a mother gave birth to you." He shoved him back and nodded to The Beadle.

The lights went out and the set was quickly changed to the alley. Joey, gasped quietly for air, mentally preparing himself for how much this next bit was going to hurt. Someone from running crew handed him blood packets, which he quickly popped in his mouth and tucked them in the corners of his cheeks.

The lights came up, and Ryan had him by the scuff of his collar.

"Hyde Park is _that_ way, young sir!" He shoved him to the ground. Joey used the technique they had been taught to semi-halfway break his fall, but it hurt just the same. "Just a left, then a right and straight on, ya see." He pushed himself up on his hands and knees, using his real pain to channel Antony's.

"Move on now!" Ryan struck him the back with his billyclub. It may have been made out of a strong foam, it hurt like hell. Joey cried out, and it was the real thing. Ryan hit him two more times, being as careful as he could without taking effect away from the show. Joey was on his stomach, and there was no pretending for Antony's agony. No stitches had split, his ribs were still set just fine, but god it hurt. He bit the blood packets in his mouth, feeling the poorly flavored liquid fill his mouth. Ryan rolled him over with his foot. Joey did most of the work himself to make it easier on both of them.

"You heard what Judge Turpin said, little man," He pressed the club to his forehead, twisting to make it look like he was hurting him more. "Next time it'll be your pretty little brains all over the pavement." Ryan turned away, exiting stage left. Joey pushed himself up, coughing and letting the fake blood drip out of his mouth. He fought flashbacks and focused on his lines.

"I'll steal you, Johanna, I'll steal you. Do they think that walls can hide you? Even now I'm at your window. I am in the dark beside you, buried sweetly in your yellow hair!" He slowly got to his feet, stumbling his way toward stage right.

"I feel you, Johanna. And one day, I'll steal you. 'Til I'm with you, then I'm with you there! Sweetly buried in your yellow hair!" The lights faded to darkness. Running crew bolted past him, and Leslie ran up beside him, holding onto him. She sat him on the bed they were using for her room later, and quickly looked him over.

Katie, who was at her spot behind the Stage Manager's podium, looked over at them and mouthed to Leslie,

"Is he okay?" Leslie nodded. Katie spoke quietly into her headset, no doubt making the announcement to everyone else that he was okay.

"Joey, are you alright?" She whispered as the lights came up on Signor Pirelli's caravan. Tim started singing.

"Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention plee-eeaase!"

Joey nodded slowly, catching his breath.

"I'll be okay," He said softly. "Just need to catch my breath, that's all."

"Is he okay?" Kirk asked, coming up behind them. Leslie nodded.

"I think so."

"I'm alright!" Joey assured. Kirk sat down next to him anyway, pressing two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. He gingerly pressed Joey's ribs to make sure they were still in place. Joey hissed softly in pain. "I'm okay, Keith. Thank you." Kirk nodded and let him get up.

"You should rest for a bit." He advised. Joey nodded.

"I don't come in for awhile. Like, ten minutes. And I don't even have to say anything. Just walk on, grab a key and walk off." He smiled reassuringly at Kirk.

"Just…don't overexcite yourself, okay?" He said in a very doctor kind of way. Joey nodded, still smiling.

"I wont, thanks again." Kirk nodded.

"Yes, get Pirelli's, use a bottle of it, Ladies seem to love it!" Tim.

"Flies do too." Lucy.

And now for Dylan's grand entrance.

"You'd better get that blood off of you, Joey," Leslie whispered. "We go on soon."

Joey nodded and stood, wincing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Leslie asked. He nodded, smiling again.

"I'm okay, Les, I promise." And he walked off stage. Leslie bit her lip and looked after him. She looked up at the ceiling.

"Please, keep him safe." She prayed, and turned her attention back to the show.

* * *

"I…am Adolfo Pirelli, the king of da barbers, da barber of kings. E buon giorno, good day. I blow you a kiss," Dylan kissed his glove and blew it out to the audience, who laughed. "And I! The so famous Pirelli, I wisha to knowa who hasa the nerva to say…my elixir is piss. Who says dis?"

Dean, who had been standing beside Lucy, looking at the ground, looked up.

"I do."

The bet was placed, Ryan was called upon to be the judge –and he obliged- and Dylan sang his song. Tim stood dormant, grabbing things when the song called for it.

Dean took his time getting ready to shave the man's face, as the script called for.

He remained pretty thoroughly flawless, though he did change a line here and there on accident. And he only forgot one.

He killed Dylan in the next couple of scenes. Apparently the look on his face made the crowd gasp. Or, at least that's what Lucy told him in the few seconds they were in blackout.

And now, it was his and Isaac's song.

"You see, sir, a man infatuate with love, her ardent and eager slave. So fetch the pomade and pumice stone and lend me a more seductive tone-"

_Damn it Jim, I'm a barber, not a miracle worker!_ Dean thought, trying not to laugh.

"A sprinkling perhaps of French cologne. But first sir, I think, a shave."

"The closest I ever gave." Dean sang ominously, smiling at the razor in his hand and glancing at Judge Turpin.

They sang about his daughter. Well, Judge Turpin was, anyway. The song started coming to a close.

"Ah, pretty women…" Both.

"At their mirrors…" Him.

"In their gardens… " Isaac.

"Letter writing…" Him.

"Flower picking…" Isaac.

"Weather watching…" Him.

"How they make a man sing," Both. "Proof of Heaven. As your living. Pretty women, sir, pretty women, yes!" Dean was slowly edging the razor closer and closer to Isaac's neck. "Pretty women!"

"Mr. Todd!" Joey burst through the door. "I just saw Johanna and she said she'd meet with me to…night."

"You!" Isaac stood. "There is indeed a higher power to warn me thus in time. Johanna, elope, with you? Deceiving slut!" He spat, getting in Antony's face. "I'll lock her up in some obscure retreat where you nor any other vile creature shall ever set eyes on her again. He turned on Dean, true malice in his eyes. "As for you, barber. It's all too clear the company you keep. Service them well and hold their customs, but you'll have none of mine!" He snatched his jacket from the hat carrier and bolted out the door.

"Mr. Todd, you have to help me," Joey pleaded. "I've talked to Johanna and-"

"OUT!" Dean bellowed. "OUT I SAY!" Joey turned on his heel and ran.

Mrs. Lovett barged in. And Sweeney had his epiphany.

"They all deserve to die," He sang, staring out at the audience. "Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why. Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of men and only two. There's the one staying put in his proper place and the one with his foot in the other one's face," He gestured to the audience with his razor. "Look at me Mrs. Lovett, look at you," He walked toward her menacingly. "No we all deserve to die," He shoved her down into the chair. "Even _you_, Mrs. Lovett, even I." He pressed the blade to her throat, his lips next to her cheek, grinning.

"Because, the lives of the wicked should be, made brief," He switched sides, sending the blade and his face to the opposite sides of her neck. "For the rest of us death will be a relief, no we all deserve to die," He started to cut her throat. She gasped and shut her eyes. "And I'll never see Johanna," He moved away from her, back toward the audience. "No, I'll never hug my girl to me. Finished!"

The set changed behind him, running crew in plain sight. Dean pointed his razor at a man in the front row. "Alright! You, sir, how about a shave?" He started pacing. "Come and, visit, your good friend Sweeney," He pointed at someone else. "Who sir, you sir? No one's in the chair c'mon, c'mon!"

By the time the song ended he was on his knees, looking up at the lights, his arms spread above his head.

"I'm alive at last! And I'm full of joy!"

The set behind him changed again. Mrs. Lovett was standing behind him, looking bored.

"That's all very well, but what are we gonna do the dearly departed?" She gestured to the chest were Signor Pirelli's body was supposed to be.

His arms fell, brow creasing.

The lights faded, the stage went black and the curtain closed. Dean sighed, standing and listening to the applause.

"Thank god for intermission."

--Cool? yes, no? Tell me so!--


	17. Intermission

17

**Intermission**

Joey wasn't as okay as he would have liked to be. The first act had taken a lot out of him, a lot. And remembering that this was only night one and he had three more shows left made his body ache.

As soon as he had run out of the barber shop when Sweeney told him to he immediately went into the Green Room and lied down on one of the tables, using his coat as a pillow. His ribs hurt so bad it was hard for him to breathe. He took slow breaths, trying not to think that he had to get back up in about fifteen minutes.

The room stayed empty for awhile, long enough for him to doze off. He gasped, jolted awake when something touched his forehead.

"Shh…It's okay, Jo-Jo." Lucy said, brushing his hair out of his face. He let his eyes close again, but trying to fall back asleep was pointless. The room slowly filled with the cast and crew, making quite a bit of noise.

"Here, take this, Joey." Lucy said. He opened his eyes and sat up, taking the water and Advil from her.

"Thanks." He said, lying back down.

"Are you alright?" She asked. He nodded.

"I'm fine. Just resting for a minute." He said quietly. She looked at him as if she were trying to read his mind, but that was at least one thing she couldn't do.

"Are you sure?" She said. He sighed.

"Lucy, even if I _wasn't_ okay, it's not like I can stop now. We're halfway through the show. If I don't finish these people are gonna notice." He said pointedly.

"You need to go home after this." She said, lips pursed. He shook his head.

"I'd rather get punched in the gut again than go home," He mumbled. "They don't care what I do, anyway. The longer I'm away from them the happier they are. I wouldn't want to ruin their fun."

She rubbed his forehead again.

"I'll take you to IHOP, then," She said. It was yet another Theatre tradition to go to the International House of Pancakes after every opening night. "You can sleep in a booth if you need to."

He nodded. "Okay." And he shut his eyes again.

Dean, meanwhile was talking to his little brother.

"Dude, I am seriously worried George is gonna show up and do something while the show's running." He said.

"What could he do?" Sam asked. "I mean, he's been around here for awhile, what if he's done something before?"

"I think someone would have said something, don't you?" Dean said, snatching a cookie off of a tray someone had left for them.

"It's not like a police station, Dean. They don't exactly document everything here. It's all myth, legend and rumor, right?" Dean sighed.

"Yeah. Well, let's ask the veterans then." They went over to Lucy, who was playing with Joey's hair.

"Hey, Lucy," Dean said. "Has George ever, ya know, done something while there's a show going on?"

"Oh hell no," Lucy said, as if the question was one she'd heard many times before. "No, he knows better. George may like to screw around, but he respects what we do. He'd never do anything during a show." Dean smirked.

"Has he told you this personally?" He said. Joey rolled his eyes. Lucy shoved his arm.

"Shut up, Jockstrap."

He shrugged. "Just a question."

He went back over to where his brother was.

"Okay, so according to Lucy he wouldn't do anything during a performance." He said. Sam sighed.

"Good."

"Yeah, Dean said. "That's the last thing we need, breaking out the rock salt in front of an audience."

"Alright guys," Katie said, glancing at her watch and fastening her headset back on. "Places. We start in five."

Joey groaned quietly and gingerly pushed himself up.

"I always knew this place would kill me."

--Yeah, it's short, but it's only a 15 minute intermission, right?--


	18. Act II

18

**Act II**

"What is that?" Dean asked, looking at the man in the audience Lucy was gesturing to.

"It's fop, finest in the shop," The man and the audience laughed. "Or we have some Sheppard's Pie peppered with actual Sheppard on top," Lucy walked to the other side of the stage and pointed at a rather stiff looking man in a suit. "And I've just begun, here's the politician so oily he's served with a doily. Have one?" The audience laughed again, the man cracked a smile.

Dean frowned. "Put it on a bun," Lucy looked at him quizzically. "Well you never know if it's going to run." More laughs.

"Try the friar," Lucy gestured to a man in the front row wearing an all brown casual suit with a receding hairline. "Fried it's drier." Dean snatched the metal cleaver off of the counter and turned back to her.

"No! The Clergy is really too coarse and too mealy." He sang. She pointed to Colby, who was sitting in the audience, watching.

"Then actor, it's compactor."

"Ah, but always arrives overdone." Colby burst out laughing along with everyone else.

Dean pulled Lucy close to him, leaning the cleaver against her neck while she smiled at him.

"I'll come again when you have judge on the menu."

"True, we don't have judge, yet," Lucy said. "But would you settle for the next best thing?"

"What's that?" Dean asked. She grinned and stroked the blade of the cleaver.

"Executioner."

They started dancing, spinning around the floor.

"Have charity toward the world, my pet." He smiled.

"Yes, yes, I know, my love."

"We'll take the customers that we can get!"

"High born and low, my love." They stopped dancing and he led her toward the edge of the stage again.

"We'll not discriminate great from small, no we'll serve anyone-" Lucy was singing with him now. "Meaning anyone, and to anyone at all!"

The audience applauded as the lights went out. Dean walked with Lucy offstage, not letting go of her hand until they were in the light where people could see them. She smiled at him as she walked off, and he smiled back.

"I knew it." Joey said next to him. Fear jumped through Dean, but he didn't let it show on his face. He looked at him like he had no clue what he meant or was talking about.

"Knew what?" He asked innocently. Joey gave him a "shut the hell up, you're lying and I can tell" look.

"You and Lucy." He whispered, making sure no one around him was listening. He glanced on stage to see where the scene was at.

"…I told myself the sailor was lying. I told myself this was a cruel fiction. That my Johanna would never betray me, never hurt me so." Isaac was saying. Joey turned his attention back to Dean.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean said, folding his arms. Joey smiled.

"Defensive, huh? So I _am_ right." He grinned. Dean glanced around.

"So what if we…Just, don't tell anyone, okay?" He pleaded quietly. Joey was still smiling.

"My lips are sealed, I promise. Honestly, I think it's cute."

Before Dean could reply Joey ran on stage.

"JOHANNA!" He yelled, running after where Ryan had drug her off into the "carriage", which was just the sound of a door closing and horses starting to run, and in front of Judge Turpin.

"Tell me where you're taking her," He demanded. "Or I swear by God I'll-"

"Would kill me boy?!" Turpin yelled, spreading his arms. "HERE I STAND!" Joey shook his head and ran after the carriage again.

"JOHANNA!"

Dean sighed. "I swear to god if he says a word…"

* * *

"Goodbye, Johanna, you're gone and yet your mine," Dean sang, slitting the man's throat. There was a sheet of canvas made up with panes so the audience couldn't see the crew member squirting blood in what ever direction it called for whenever he slashed the razor at a customer.

He was in the barber shop on the high rise platform on stage left. The Bake House was center, set up with a giant meat grinder that was made entirely out of plywood and an oven made of the same thing with a light inside. And stage right was in blackout. Leslie was sitting behind a wall with a sign on it that said "Fogg's Asylum", waiting for the song to end so she could go up to the bars and look at him. "I'm fine, Johanna, I'm fine." He pressed the pedal on the chair and the customer fell down the chute where Mrs. Lovett dragged them toward the grinder.

Joey was walking through the aisles as he sang, as to indicate that he was walking through London to find his love.

"Johanna…"

A spotlight went on Krista, a.k.a. Lucy, a.k.a. Beggar Woman, who was at the edge of the proscenium, pointing at the Meat Pie Emporium slash Barber Shop.

"Smoke! Smoke! Sign of the Devil, sign of the Devil! City of fire!" The lights came up on the Bake House. Mrs. Lovett grabbed the nearest body and dragged it behind the meat grinder.

"Witch!" Krista continued in a shrill voice. "A witch! Smell it, sir, an evil smell, ever night at the vesper's bell! Smoke that comes from the mouth of hell! City of fire, city of fire…Mischief, mischief, mischief!"

The song ended and went into a new one in the next scene.

"By the sea, wouldn't that be smashing?" Lucy sang. After that incredibly awkward song where Mrs. Lovett pretty much flat out told Todd that she wanted to marry him so she could screw him.

"By the seaside, by, by the beautiful sea."

Now Antony was sitting in the Barber Shop, looking tired.

"You've found Johanna?" Dean asked.

"For all the good it'll do. It's impossible to get to her."

"A madhouse…A madhouse where?"

"Fogg's Asylum. But I've circled the place a dozen times, there's no way in. It's a fortress!" Joey said, exasperated.

Dean smiled, walking behind the chair and looking at the floor.

"I've got him." He said.

"Mr. Todd?" Joey said, turning and looking confused. Lucy looked at him curiously.

"We've got her," Dean said, putting his hand on Joey's shoulder. "Where do you suppose all the wigmakers in London go to obtain their hair? Bedlam. They get it from the lunatics at Bedlam."

So the plan was set, Antony was supposed to go to the asylum, get Johanna and bring her back to the Barber Shop. Toby was going to give a letter to Judge Turpin so he'd show up to get Johanna and Sweeney would kill him.

Dean stood off stage, running over the next few scenes in his head while he watched Lucy and Tim's big scene.

"Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around," Tim sang, kneeling down next to her. "Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around."

"What do you mean someone bad?" Lucy asked, her amused smile never leaving her face.

"Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays. I'll send them howling I don't care, I've got ways."

Lucy sat up, shaking her head and ruffling his hair. "Darling, hush now, there's no need for this." She assured.

"No one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare. Others can desert you, not to worry, whistle I'll be there! Demons'll charm you with a smile, for awhile, but in time, nothing can harm you. Not while I'm around."

"What is foolishness, now? What are you talking about?" Lucy sighed and stood, tidying up the room.

"Little things I've been thinking," Tim said, on her heels like a puppy. "About Mr. Todd…" He started to sing again. "Not to worry, not to worry, I may not be smart but I ain't dumb! I can do it, put me to it, show me somethin' I can overcome. Not to worry, ma'am." She stopped and turned to him, trying to hide her troubled expression. He took her hand, smiling sweetly and genuinely at her.

"Being close and being clever ain't like being true. I don't need to, I won't never hide a thing from you," He looked up. "Like some…"

Lucy shook her head, desperately trying to change the subject. "Now I think we've had enough of this foolish chatter, eh?" She reached in her dress and pulled out Signor Pirelli's purse, taking out a coin. "Now, how 'bout I give you a shiny new penny and you go get us some toffees, eh?"

"That's Signor Pirelli's purse!" Toby exclaimed, looking scared.

"No, no love, this is just something Mr. T gave me for my birthday." She said nonchalantly. He grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward the door.

"See that proves it! What I been thinkin'! We gotta go, ma'am. We gotta find the Beadle and get the law here!" Lucy resisted and pulled him back onto the couch again.

"Hush now, Toby, hush. Here, you just sit down right here next to me," She held him to her, resting his head against her chest. Dean remembered how uncomfortable Tim had been with this position, asking Turk several times with his eyes if he _really_ had to do this. He chuckled lightly.

"How could you think such a thing about Mr. Todd, who's been so good to us?"

_Yeah, 'cause he hasn't killed you._ Dean thought.

She sat there, stroking his hair for a minute, looking upset. She looked down at him and sighed sadly, understanding what had to be done now.

"Nothing's gonna harm you," She sang softly. "Nothing's gonna harm you, darlin', not while I'm around." He looked up at her, smiled and then lied back down, singing.

"Demons'll charm you with a smile, for awhile, but in time. Nothing gonna harm you, not while I'm around."

Lucy swallowed, tears in her eyes.

"Funny we should be having this little chat now," She said. "'Cause I was just thinking, you know how you've always fancied coming into the Bake House with me to make the pies?" Tim looked up at her.  
"Yes, ma'am." He said.

"Well," She smiled down at him. "No time like the present."

The lights went out again and Dean sighed.

_Almost done,_ He thought. _Almost done…_

--Whoo! Gettin close guys! More soon!! :)--


	19. Act II Continued

19

**Act II Continued**

Mrs. Lovett showed Toby how to make the pies and locked him in the Bake House.

Antony went to Fogg's Asylum and retrieved Johanna, leaving Mr. Fogg with his "Children" as they ripped him limb from limb.

Now Dean and Lucy were hurrying down the stairs to go kill Toby.

"I've got him locked in," Mrs. Lovett was saying. "But if he escapes he'll go to the law."

"Then he can't escape." Dean said simply.

"Mr. T," Lucy said, an edge of plea in her voice. "I don't know, maybe we could-"

"The Judge will be here soon!" Sweeney snapped, irritated. "I have no time woman! Come-" They turned to go into the Emporium when Ryan appeared in the doorway. Mrs. Lovett jumped and gasped along with the audience.

"Oh! S'cuse me sir, ya gave me a fright." She said, catching her breath.

"Not my intention, good Madame. Though I am here on official business," He said. Dean glared at the man, touching his belt where the razor was. "You see, there's been complaints about the stink from your chimney. They say at night it is something most foul. Health and regulations, and the general public welfare, naturally being my duty. I'm afraid I'll have to take a look," He inhaled the snuff he'd prepared in his hand and sneezed. "At your bake house." Dean stepped in front of Lucy, pushing her back.

"Of course, but first why don't you come upstairs and let me attend to you?" He said, smiling pleasantly.

"Much as I do appreciate tonsorial adornment, I really ought to attend to my 'official' obligations first." Ryan said. Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

"An admirable sentiment. But I must ask you, out of professional curiosity you understand, is that a cream or a tallow pomade?" Ryan touched his hair, smiling proudly. Dean stifled a laugh with great difficulty.

"Oh, not a pomade at all! Me secret is a touch of ambergris." He said.

"But sir," Dean said, guiding him toward the stairs. "Hair that delicate requires a genuine pomade. Come along, let me show you the difference." The Beadle smiled.

"Well, you are the expert in these matters."

Dean leads him up the stairs and into the shop, giving Mrs. Lovett one last look before shutting the door.

At the other end of the stage, the Beggar Woman peeks out from behind the proscenium, watching.

Toby figure out they were making people when the Beadle Bamford fell out of the chute, dead and bloodied. Half the audience gasped. The other half cheered and clapped.

Toby ran to the locked door, trying to get it open. When he couldn't he ran off stage, "hiding".

"Nicely done, Tim." Leslie said, nudging him. Tim smiled politely and gave a small bow of thanks.

Dean and Lucy entered the Bake House, looking around. Dean had the razor behind his back, in the audience's plain sight.

"Toby!" Lucy sang. "Where are you love?"

"Toby!" Dean yelled. "Where are you, lad?"

"Nothing's gonna harm you…" Lucy sang sweetly.

"Toby!"

"Not while I'm around…"

"Toby!" Dean sounded impatient.

"Nothing's gonna harm you, Darling."

"Nothing to be afraid of, boy!" Dean assured, a horrible smile on his lips.

"Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays…"

"TOBY!"

The lights went out on the bake house. Dean and Lucy rushed off stage. Leslie and Joey entered the Barber Shop at a run.

Antony explained to her that she could wait here until he came back with a carriage to take them away from here and that no one would recognize her, since she was dressed like a man.

"Safe…so we run away and all our dreams come true?" She asked in her soft voice.

"Johanna, when we're free of this place all the ghosts will go away." He assured, taking her hand.

"No Antony, they never go away." She said sadly. Joey kissed her cheek.

"I'll be right back to you. Half an hour and we'll be free." And he left.

Johanna walked around the room, looking at the old picture of her mother and her when she was a baby. The irony made some audience members laugh.

The Beggar Woman appeared at the bottom of the stairs, slowly climbing them.

"Beadle!" She sang in her uneven, shrill voice. "Beadle…No good hidin' I saw you…are you in there still Beadle?"

Johanna panicked and hid in the chest that Signor Pirelli had been in in the first act.

"Beadle! Beadle, dear Beadle!" The Woman stumbled in, meeting an empty room. She looked around, so confused she was on the verge of tears. "Beadle, deedle, deedle, deedle dumpling, Beadle dumpling, Be-deedle, deedle, deedle, deedle, deedle-"

Dean appeared in the doorway so silently in the dark the entire audience jumped.

"What are you doing here?" He asked dangerously.

She cowed away from him, but continued to speak.

"Ah, evil it is, sir. The stink of evil from below, from her! Beadle, dear Beadle!" She yelled. Dean glanced out the door.

"Quiet woman!" He hissed.

"She's the Devil's wife," She said, reaching for his arm. "Oh, beware her, sir! She with no pity in her heart…" She looked at him, gazing intently, cocking her head to the side

"Out of here, now!" Dean said, shrugging her off.

"Hey," She sang. "Don't I know you, Mister?" There were footsteps on the stairs, Isaac's.

In one swing Dean slashed the razor across her neck. A woman in the audience screamed when blood fell from her neck.

Dean pressed the pedal on the chair and she fell through the trap door and into the chute.

Isaac came in, Dean told him that Johanna was downstairs, waiting for him to forgive her.

Dean convinced him to sit down. Judge Turpin was lost in thoughts of Johanna.

"Ah, pretty women…" He sang.

"Pretty women, yes." He replied.

"Johanna, Johanna…"

"Pretty woman…"

"Hurry man!" Turpin snapped.

"Pretty women are a wonder."

"You're in a merry mood again today, Mr. Todd."

The song went on.

"How seldom it is one meets a fellow spirit!" Isaac said. Dean smiled, taking the razor from his belt.

"With fellow tastes, in women at least." He said dangerously.

"What, what's that?" Isaac asked, slightly confused. Dean walked around to face him.

"The years, no doubt, have changed me, sir. But I suppose the face of a barber, and the face of a prisoner in the dock, is not particularly memorable." Turpin's eyes grew in a sudden realization.

"Benjamin Barker."

"BENJAMIN BARKER!" Dean screamed. He sliced The Judge's throat, his face contorted in a snarl. Isaac sputtered for air, the blood falling down his throat in torrents.

Lucy watched from the right wing. Some of the audience members were smiling in amazement, others covered their faces in horror, others gaped in disbelief. Turk's mission was accomplished.

There was a piece of thin rubber over Isaac's neck. Underneath it were dozens of blood packets so no matter where he cut he hit something. The razors were really metal but there were about as sharp as a butter knife. Dean had to press hard, and make sure that if enough blood didn't fall that he continued to slash. It would just make his anger more real. Lucy grinned and gave a thumbs up to Joey, who threw his fist in the air with a silent "YES!".

Dean pressed the pedal on the floor and the judge fell through the shoot, bloodied.

The audience applauded, long and loud. Dean fell on his knees, holding the razor in front of him.

"Rest now, my friend. Rest now forever. Rest now the untroubled sleep of the angels." He set the razor in the chair, looking relieved and at peace.

Until Johanna cracked open the lid of the chest. His head snapped around and he snatched the razor off the chair, standing and going over to it. He hauled Leslie out with one swift movement of his arm. It had amazed Leslie how easily how easily he had picked her up out of there. But now it was expected.

"Come for a shave, have you lad?"

"No, I-" Leslie tried to say. Todd slammed her into the chair, raising the razor. The audience gasped again.

Lucy took a deep breath and screamed. Screamed long and loud, making the audience jump and gasp.

Dean looked up and then at Johanna. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt, bringing her face close to his bloody one.

"Forget my face." He hissed. He let her go and strode out. The lights went out. The audience applauded.

Dean sighed. And now, the Finale.

--More soon, guys!!--


	20. Finale

--Yeah, that's right, i added a chapter that fast :D--

20

**Finale**

Lucy tugged her dress away from Isaac, who was still not quite dead.

"DIE!" Lucy screamed. "GOD IN HEAVEN DIE!" She got her dress away and he fell, finally dead. She breathed heavily, and then caught sight of the dead Beggar Woman.

"You," She whispered. "Have all the demons of Hell come to torment me?!"

There's footsteps on the stairs. She grabbed the dead woman and started dragging her toward the "oven" but Sweeney came in while she was trying.

"Why did you scream?" He asked, winded.

"He was clutching onto me dress, but he's finished now." She assured, still dragging Krista toward the oven.

"Leave them to me, go open the door," He ordered. She didn't listen. "Open the doors!" He shoved her toward the oven and started to roll up his sleeves. Mrs. Lovett hesitated, looking at Krista one more time before she walked off stage. There was a loud creak, like she was opening the oven door. A dim light shown on Krista, revealing her blonde hair.

"What's the matter with you?" Dean asked. "It's just a silly old beggar…." He stopped, looking down at her. The audience gasped.

"No…" Dean whispered. "Oh god... 'Don't I know you?' she said," He looked up at Mrs. Lovett. "You knew she lived. From the moment I came into your shop you _knew_ my Lucy lived!"

She bit her lip. "I was only thinkin' of you." Dean looked back down at his dead wife, Lucy, anguish in his eyes.

"Lucy…" He sang.

"Your Lucy!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed. "A crazy hag picking bones and rotten spuds out of the alley ashcans! Would you have wanted to know she ended up like that?"

Dean looked at her, his eyes fiery.

"You lied to me." He whispered darkly.

"No, no not lied at all," She sang to the tune of "Poor Thing". "No I never lied…"

"Lucy…"

"Said she took a poison, she did, never said that she died. Poor thing! She lived…

"I've come home again…"

"But it left her weak in her head. All she did for months was just lie there in bed…"

"Lucy…"

"Should have been in hospital, wound up in Bedlam instead. Poor thing!"

"Oh my God!" Dean sang, voice filled with agony.

"Better you should think she was dead, yes I lied 'cause I love you!" She said passionately, walking closer to him.

"Lucy…"

"I'd be twice the wife she was, I love you! Could that thing have cared for you like me?"

He turned to her suddenly, a dark smile on his face as the music changed to the waltz of "A Little Priest".

"Mrs. Lovett," He sang intensely, walking on her like a tiger ready to pounce. She backed up toward stage left as he came at her.

The audience watched in what they hoped was a hushed horror.

"You're a bloody wonder eminently practical and yet appropriate as always…"

"Do you mean it?" Mrs. Lovett asked. "Everything I did, I swear it was only for the best…"

"Now come here my love…"

"Believe me…"

"Not a thing to fear my love. What's dead is dead…"

"Can we, still be, married?"

He took her hand, dancing with her again, spinning her back toward the oven.

"The history of the world my pet." He sang, still smiling.

"Oh, Mr. Todd, oh, Mr. Todd, leave it to me." She grinned, thinking she was safe.

"Is learn forgiveness and try to forget!"

"By the sea, Mr. Todd, we'll be comfy cozy, by the sea Mr. Todd where there's no one nosy!"

"And life is for the alive, my dear, so let's keep living it," Now they both sang. "Just keep living it. Really living it!"

Dean tossed off stage, into the "oven." She screamed and shrieked as she was burned alive. Dean glared out at the audience, his gaze making some jump and others gasp. He stepped behind the curtain where the slam of the oven door was heard.

He stepped out and looked at Lucy, who was still lying where he had left her. He dropped the razor, no longer angry, but sad. He knelt down next to her, brushing her hair out of her face so he could see her.

"There was a barber and his wife. And she was beautiful. A foolish barber and his wife. She was his reason and his life. And she was beautiful," His voice was breaking, tears in his eyes. "And she was virtuous. And he was…" He fell over her, sobbing.

The sobs were fake, obviously. But Dean couldn't really believe he'd actually generated tears for this!

That's when Toby came from stage left, looking at him. He'd seen it all.

Dean looked up at him, tears still falling. He set Lucy down and faced him, still on his knees.

Toby picked up the fallen razor. Dean unbuttoned his collar and looked up, offering his bare throat. With one slice Tim split his throat open. Dean just stared at him, dying.

Blood started to pool and ooze out toward the audience in a huge puddle.

Dylan stepped out of the darkness, back in the outfit he was in at the beginning. And he sang the last part of the Ballad of Sweeney Todd.

The curtains closed when he was done.

Krista stood and looked at Dean, who stood, grinning as the audience applauded.

"Good job," She said. "Tears were a nice touch, how'd ya do that?" She asked. He shrugged.

"I honestly have no idea." They ran off stage.

The curtains opened and the lights came up. The band in the pit played the music to Pirelli's Miracle Elixir. Dylan and Krista ran out first, bowing and standing in the back when they were done. Joey and Leslie came after that. Leslie had actually had time to change back into her dress.

Isaac and Ryan took their bow. Dean came out with Lucy, smiling when the audience was on their feet.

They bowed together. The rest of the cast rushed forward and joined hands, taking a bow altogether. They clapped for the band and clapped for the booth, who were flashing the lights and cheering as well. And they ran off, going through the wings and into the lobby to greet their audience.

"You did it, Jockstrap." Lucy said, taking his hand after making sure everyone was in front of them.

Dean shook his head and looked down at her.

"We did it. I just made you guys look good." She rolled her eyes.

"Three more nights and we're done," She looked at the lit room at the end of the hall and smacked Dean's butt. "Now go greet your audience, Mr. T." She said.

He grinned back at her and walked into the lobby, ready to face what he hadn't been planning on. The people that just watched it.

--More still soon!--


	21. Show's Over Folks

21

**Show's Over Folks **

Dean said thank you and shook so many hands he got dizzy. And it was the same for all three nights. Lipstick, Bear and Jet gave him a lot of crap. Especially when they saw how much make up he had on. Kirk congratulated him as well, though he had to watch from the wing. After the show he had to help Dylan and Colby clean the men's dressing room before he could go to IHOP. He drove Sam, Lucy and Joey there, and he sat with them once they got there.

Sam ended up sitting by Tim, who was actually talking.

"Wait, a sec, I though Tim didn't talk!" Dean exclaimed. Lucy smiled and shook her head.

"Noobs," She said. Joey probably would have nodded, but he had passed out in Lucy's lap about twenty minutes ago. "Tim talks, when he absolutely has to. And he's got so much energy after a show that he does speak."

"Ah," Dean said, nodding. "Wonder what Isaac's problem is." He said, nodding in his direction. Isaac had been glaring at him but when Dean looked at him he quickly looked away. Lucy shrugged.

"Maybe he's mad that you did such an awesome job." She suggested. Dean blushed, even though he tried _really_ hard not to.

"I wasn't that good." He mumbled. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, and Johnny Depp's a bad actor." She said.

"I doubt Johnny Depp would do anything like this." He said. Lucy shrugged.

"Ya never know."

The next three nights went well. The next was watched by critics, which made Dean nervous and he screwed up more, but other than that he did well.

Sunday was strike, which meant after the show they had to put all of the costumes back in the Props closet, the set had to be disassembled and everything on the bio board had to be taken down and distributed amongst the cast and crew.

So after Dean had gotten most of his makeup off and changed out of his costume and given it to Lucy, he grabbed a drill and started to help take the meat grinder apart. He still couldn't believe it was all over. He didn't have rehearsal after school anymore. He could have a life. Hell, he could go on hunts and not give them over to other hunters in the area.

Leslie was back in Hitler mode, yelling and ordering people around and getting pissed off when someone on hair and make up walked through without any shoes on.

"You wanna get stabbed in the foot, fine by me, just don't do it in a place that I'M responsible for!" She bellowed.

"Bridgette, go put shoes on!" Turk barked in passing.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'." She griped, walking into the guy's dressing room from the door in the shop.

"So, what are we gonna do about George?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged.

"He didn't do anything while the show was goin'. Maybe he just doesn't like us. We were the only thing new in this place. Maybe we pissed him off or something." He said, letting the plywood facing of the grinder fall with a thud.

"Maybe. I guess if we hear any ghost stories in school we can come check it out." Sam said. Dean nodded.

"Well, maybe…I dunno, maybe it'd be cool if we could, stick around?" He said, not looking at him.

"You mean you want to come _back_? After all of this Hell?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Well, it's something to do. And football's over anyway." He mumbled. Sam smirked and looked at Lucy, who was coming out of the Props Closet.

"Are you sure that's it?" He asked. Dean turned, following his eyes. He quickly got back to what he was doing.

"Shut up," He said. He glanced back up at him. "How many other people know?"

"No one else besides me and Joey knows it officially. Everyone else just thinks you guys would make a good couple." Sam said. Dean sighed.

"Wait a second," He said after a moment. "Joey told you?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "He told me because he said I was your brother and I should know. But I knew already, anyway." Dean frowned and looked up at him.

"How?" He asked, defensive. Sam smiled and bent down next to him.

"You've been saying her name in your sleep for about a month." He whispered. He stood, chuckling at how much Dean was blushing and walked away.

Dean slammed the crew gun into the next screw, angry with himself and embarrassed.

"That screw say something about your Mom, Jockstrap?" A familiar voice said. Part of Dean was happy, another was mortified that she showed up at that exact moment.

"As a matter of fact it did." He smirked.

"That explains why your face is so red." She said, bending down next to him. Dean smiled, unable to stop himself.

"Yeah well…it _really_ pissed me off."

She shook her head and stood, ruffling his hair before walking away.

They got done a few hours later.

Dean threw the last two by four onto the shelf and walked out of the Shop, turning the lights off.

The theatre was empty. Everyone was headed out to Jamie's house, considering he lived out in the middle of nowhere and they could be as loud as they wanted. Sam had gone ahead with Suzy and Tim and Dean was going to give Lucy a ride up there. She was at the light box holding Turk's keys, getting ready to turn everything off.

Dean came up behind her, looking left and right to make sure they were alone and wrapped his arms around her waist. She jumped, startled and turned around. She smiled when she saw him and put her hands on his chest.

"Hi." She said, smiling.

"Hi." He said, returning her grin.

"There's nobody here, ya know," She said. "So that means we don't have to worry about jumping ten feet away from each other when someone walks in."

"So we can actually make out?" Dean asked. She smiled and nodded. He leaned in, gently lifting her face.

Lucy felt electricity shoot through her when his lips touched hers. She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to get him impossibly closer to her.

His fingers were curled in her dark locks, kissing her deeply.

"So," Lucy said between kisses. "You gonna…stick around…after this?"

"Yeah." Dean breathed. Lucy smiled against his lips.

"Good."

A few seconds later the house lights and the stage lights went out and the red lights came up. Dean and Lucy broke apart instantly.

"I thought you said everyone left." Dean said.

"I thought everyone had."

Something grabbed the front of Dean's shirt and threw him onto the stage.

"What the hell?!" Lucy yelled. "Dean are you okay?" She asked. Dean nodded and started to push himself up.

A figure without a face or any features other than a black silhouette appeared in front of him, just as it had three months ago. It kicked Dean in the ribs this time, instead of his face.

"Now, George, we can talk about this!" Dean said, coughing.

"_I don't want to do this, Dean. Trust me."_ The figure said. Lucy's eyes were wide, watching the ghost, her face pale and hands shaking.

"Who's makin' you do this, George?" Dean grunted. He didn't answer. George kicked Dean a few more times before disappearing.

The lights came back up and George disappeared.

"What the hell was that?!" Lucy yelled. Dean tried to talk, but the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of him.

"A ghost." A voice said behind him. He turned his head and his eyes grew.

Isaac stepped out of the black Shop, twisting his class ring.

"Isaac?" Lucy said. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going to Jamie's." Isaac continued to walk toward her.

"I thought I'd stay back and talk to you after this clown left," He gestured to Dean, who was still wheezing for air. "I wanted to ask you why you've been flirting with him. Why you two were so close that time in rehearsal when you were practicing dancing. And why on Earth you were kissing the day after Joey got hurt. And you were always talking back stage." He said.

"Stalker." Dean grunted. Isaac scowled at him, twisting his ring again.

"I wouldn't make me mad, Dean," He growled dangerously. "You don't know what I can do."

George appeared again, still a silhouette and kicked Dean a few more times.

"Isaac, stop!" Lucy bellowed. Isaac looked at her and George disappeared.

"You just can't see it, can you?" He asked. "You can't see just how much I love you, can you?"

"What?!" Lucy said. "Are you telling me George has been hurting him because you _like me?!_" She asked, incredulous.

"Of course I do. But you always seemed to be distracted by this piece of shit." He spat.

"Hey…" Dean said, offended. "You're…lucky I can't...friggin' breathe or I'd be kickin'…your ass."

Isaac's attention was on Lucy.

"Why am I not good enough for you? Why does he get to have you and I don't. I've loved you for so long. And you like me too, I know you do," He said, smiling. "So don't lie." Lucy was looking from Dean to Isaac, panicking. Dean looked at her, pointing to his ring and nodding toward Isaac, who was still talking and not paying attention. She gave a small nod.

"So it's okay. I'll still take you back." He said.

"Back?" Lucy said. "Isaac we went out in ninth grade."

"I know, and I haven't been able to forget about you. So I'll take you back." He said.

"You know what, I think you're right, Isaac." She said, walking to him.

"He is?"

"I am?" Lucy smiled.

"Of course you are, silly," She said. "Sorry, Dean, but it's over." Isaac smiled triumphantly. Dean blanched. Lucy took Isaac's hand, toying with the ring on his hand.  
"You know, Isaac, I have to say, you have to be the most," She smiled at him, edging the ring off of his hand. "Disgusting, putrid, vile thing I have ever had the displeasure of coming in contact with." She yanked the ring off and dropped it, right before crushing it under her heel without even blinking.

Isaac looked from her face to her shoe. "You bitch!" He yelled, lunging at her. Lucy cried out. Dean tackled him before he even got a chance.

"Don't even think about it, you son of a bitch," He growled. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "I think you've got some explaining to do to our friend George." He said, standing.

Isaac stood, righting his clothes. That was before he looked up at George, who not only had a face now, but an entire body.

He was dressed in work clothes stained with paint and dry wall. His dark hair fell to his shoulders and his goatee had patches of gray.

"You know what, kid?" He said, sounding angry. "I've seen a lot of crazy shit in my years here, but this is ridiculous!" He lunged at him, raising his fist.

"Hey, Georgie boy!" Dean said. George stopped. "Don't kill him. He's just a stupid kid." George looked at Isaac, still holding him by the front of his shirt.

"But…c'mon he made me do some mean shit to you kids," He said, his voice gruff. "Which I am sorry to jack up your guys' make out session. Oh and tying you to the wench pipe. And hurtin' your ears. And scarin' Joey. That kid didn't do nothin', and he's such a good kid too. But this one," He gestured to Isaac again. "This one needs his ass kicked. His Mama shoulda done it years ago."

Dean laughed. "Fine, just one punch." George grinned and clocked Isaac in the jaw, hard.

Isaac fell, holding his face. George smiled and looked around.

"God I love this place," He said. "And hey, make love not war, okay? See ya around." He winked and he was gone.

There was a long moment of silence, save Isaac's groans in pain.

"So, he's still here, right?" Lucy asked. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, he ain't goin' anywhere." He said. He went over to Isaac and knelt down next to him.

"So, you done screwin' around with ghosts?" He asked. Isaac nodded. "You ever gonna come back here?" Isaac shook his head. "You ever gonna go near Lucy again?" Isaac shook his head again. "You know I'll kill you if you do, right?" Isaac nodded. "Good. Now get the hell out of here." Isaac scrambled up and ran out of the theatre.

"Nice work, Jock-, Dean." Lucy said, smiling at him.

"You aren't freaked out about the whole ghosts are real thing, are you?" He asked. "'Cause that's what I kind of, uh, do. I hunt ghosts." She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling.

"I always wanted to date a Ghostbuster." And she kissed him.

* * *

_**Ten years later…**_

Dean walked out of the movie theatre, still smiling.

"So, what did you think?"

"I think there were some parts they still could've kept in and it wouldn't have been too long." He said.

"I thought it was pretty good. Johnny did really well."

"Yeah, well, so did the chick who played Mrs. Lovett."

"Helena Bonham Carter."

"You would know that." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Forgive me for being informed, Jockstrap," She said. Dean grinned and kissed her. "You know, one of these days you're gonna come back here and I'll be married." She said.

"And until that day comes I get a weekend of great sex and nostalgia," He said, still smiling. She shook her head, laughing. "And I think it's funny Joey got married before you."

"Yeah, well, Eric's a good guy. And after they met opening night I think that deal was sealed." She said, laughing.

"Maybe you should marry me." Dean joked.

"You know you say that every time," She said. "And I still don't think hunting ghosts is for me." Dean shrugged.

"Then, let's go get dinner and then back to your place?" He suggested. She grinned.

"Burgers, beer, great sex and nostalgia," She said, thinking it over. "Sounds great, Jockstrap."

"You're never gonna call me anything else, are ya?" He asked.

"When the world spins backwards I will." She said. Dean smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Give it awhile, the world'll end soon enough. You never know in this business."

"Shut up and kiss me."

**THE**

**END**

--Thank you to everyone that read! Yes, it's FINALLY done! God bless you all and i hope to keep hearing from you in the future! Disclaimer: I own NONE of the script used in this fic. That credit goes to Stephen Sondheim so i hope i dont get sued! :D --


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